by Liza Street
Savage Loss
Book 2 of The Corona Pride
by Liza Street
Description
Resisting desire is futile in the Corona Mountains.
Elementary school principal Brigitte Mayfair has worked hard to keep herself cool, professional, and detached after the scandal she left behind in Michigan. But when she’s abducted from campus and released three days later with no memory of her captivity, she feels anything but cool and professional. Especially when a drop-dead gorgeous rescuer begins to rekindle her buried passions.
Mountain lion shapeshifter Rafe Corona hasn’t been serious about a woman…ever. He’s purposefully kept his distance from all potential mates, believing that he doesn’t deserve happiness. Something about Brigitte calls to him, though. He must overcome the danger that threatens to keep them apart and find the passion hidden within them both, or risk losing her forever.
Content Warning: Although it is part of a series and best read in order, this shapeshifter novella stands alone. It contains liberal usage of naughty language and sexytimes. It is intended for adults.
Join Liza’s Awesome Readers Group and get Book 2 of The Sierra Pride, Fierce Heartbreaker, FREE, as well as an exclusive short story! Visit Liza’s free book page for details: https://lizastreet.wordpress.com/free-book/
One
Brigitte held her phone carefully in her hands, like it was a baby bird. Or maybe a grenade.
She punched in a phone number she knew by heart. Marcellus didn’t answer, and she didn’t expect him to. He’d be annoyed that she was calling instead of texting, but she didn’t have to follow his rules anymore.
“Hi, Marcellus, it’s me,” she said to the voicemail recorder. “It’s been a year, but I’m sure you know that. I hope you’re well. I know you miss him as much as I do—maybe more, because you knew him longer. He was—” Her voice broke. She swallowed thickly, then continued. “He was a good man. I miss both of you.”
Before she could say any more, she ended the call.
There. She took a deep breath. She’d done it. Now she had to wait.
The view outside her office window looked uncertain. Sun glinting off a spring snow. Sunshine that would add just enough warmth to remind her how cold she was.
Marcellus had to get back to her—this wasn’t a day either of them should spend alone.
She looked at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes until first bell, and she liked walking the halls, greeting the teachers and students of Belnedge Elementary. It helped her feel more in touch with the school as a community. But in order to do that, she had to hold herself together.
Her phone went into her pocket. Hovering at her office door, she reached up and touched her necklace, fingering the rose pendant her grandmother had given her when she turned thirteen. Nanny Mae would have told her to be strong. She would have said love conquered everything. She would have sent Brigitte into the corridor with a kiss and a love-blessing, her own brand of magic.
Magic. Brigitte wished she believed in it, because she could sure as hell use a little bit of it to get through the day.
Brigitte spent the morning speaking with parents, observing in classrooms, and putting the final touches on next week’s teacher workshop. During lunchtime, she got to walk around the cafeteria and talk with individual students, exchanging high fives and discussing school projects.
By fifth period, she slumped at her desk, vision blurring at the calendar in front of her. Meetings and more meetings were coming up, to hammer out final details of a workshop she was planning. Brigitte tapped the dates thoughtfully and jotted down notes.
Always, in the back of her mind, was her phone, silent in her pocket. She knew she needed to move on. Marcellus was a part of her past, and she needed a future. But she was respectable now—she’d left that past behind. Trying to find someone else, someone who could not only understand that past, but accept it? She didn’t think it was possible.
Immediately she felt guilty for wanting to move on. Her office phone rang, and she put on her cheerful-yet-stern principal voice to handle whatever opportunity or crisis had arisen.
Toward the end of sixth period, she walked down the hallway of the science wing. Hearing children shouting from inside Ms. Julep’s classroom, Brigitte let herself in.
Immediately a hush came over the students. Ms. Julep’s substitute, Mrs. Long, sent a frazzled and grateful look Brigitte’s way.
Brigitte said in a clear voice, “Someone will raise their hand. I will call on them and get an explanation for what is happening in here.”
Three nine-year-olds volunteered. Brigitte nodded at one of them. “Go ahead, Anita.”
She patiently listened while Anita, and then Johnny, and then Brian, recounted the fight that had begun over who would be the one to help Mrs. Long pack away the beakers.
Her phone buzzed once in her pocket, and Brigitte tried not to jump.
“Now that we’re all calm,” Brigitte said, struggling to ignore whatever message might be on her phone, “what do you think should happen next?”
The vibration from her phone could be a text Marcellus. Her fingers itched to check.
“I think we should figure out a way to solve the problem,” Brian said, and Anita and Johnny nodded.
Brigitte smiled. “Then get to it. Remember, above all, that we’re in a community, a classroom community. We’re made up of individuals, but together we can solve anything. Let’s show Mrs. Long what a Belnedge classroom is made of, shall we?”
She gave an encouraging smile to Mrs. Long and stepped outside. Out of sight of the classroom, she leaned against the wall, felt the crinkle of the paper covering a bulletin board behind her. Her phone. She needed to check her phone.
But her job came first.
She risked a peek through the window in the door. Anita, Johnny, and Brian had formed a sort of line for carrying the beaker boxes to the cupboards at the back of the room.
She briskly walked down the hall, her low, sensible heels clacking on the linoleum. Once inside her office again, she pulled her phone from her coat pocket.
It was a text from her cousin, Cam. Thinking of you today. XOXO.
Brigitte tried not to be disappointed. She typed back, Thank you, and added a heart emoji.
The final bell rang, and the corridor erupted with the sounds of little feet rushing to and fro, children laughing and chattering away.
Time to help monitor the parking lot and student pick-up area. Brigitte tucked her phone back into the pocket of her coat.
Marcellus hadn’t called.
Magic, once again, had failed her.
Two
Rafe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his Pathfinder. Today was the day. He’d already coached his little sister, Penny, to stick close by the principal. Penny had raised her eyebrows at him, but agreed.
Now he just had to not screw things up.
When he’d moved to Belnedge a few months ago to join the CMR, he’d loved finally living close to the rest of the pride. His parents’ lodge was here, a short drive out of Belnedge, but their large resort—the place he’d grown up—was over the ridge near Maxon. Moving here had one benefit of putting some distance between him and his parents. The extra benefit? Now he was closer to the principal.
He pulled into the parking lot. Penny stood near the steps of one of the classroom buildings.
And there was the principal. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat. Her kind eyes, a faint blue-gray. Her bright, orange-red hair. At school every day, her hair was held back in a tight bun, but he wondered what it would look like tumbling down her shoulders. How the sunlight would catch it, and what a strand would look like if it escaped to
be caressed by the breeze.
How could she do this to him, from so far away? He’d never even spoken to her, but after the first time his dad had asked him to pick up Penny, and Rafe had set eyes on the principal, he’d volunteered to be the one to pick Penny up from school every day. His parents had been confused—Rafe had always been the slacker in the family, the one who shirked responsibility, the one who was so trapped in his own head he rarely paid attention to anyone and couldn’t be depended on to be punctual to save his life. But he’d insisted on being the new designated school pick-up person, and he’d gotten his way in the end.
It meant he had to switch up his entire schedule with the Corona Mountains Rescue program, a non-profit he’d joined a few months ago. It meant weird hours at the CMR station, and a drive into Belnedge he didn’t usually make if he could help it. But seeing her every day made the inconveniences worth it.
He didn’t even know her first name. “Ms. Mayfair” was all Penny could tell him. He thought about searching for her online, but he’d rather get the name from the fiery-haired principal herself.
Counting by sixes to keep his cock under control, because it wouldn’t do to approach the woman of his dreams with a massive hard-on jabbing behind his zipper, Rafe sauntered up to the curb.
The principal stood talking to a parent. Rafe wished he could close his ears to the shrill sounds of the other woman, who was concerned about her kid’s homework. The principal calmly reassured the mother, her tone even and professional.
Hell, even the principal’s professional, quiet voice turned Rafe on. He continued counting by sixes in his head, waiting for the parent to leave.
When he reached 138, the principal turned to him. “Can I help you?”
And for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. “Hi,” he finally managed.
She gave him a funny look. “Hi.”
Rafe wasn’t sure where to go from there. Rafe, who always had a comeback waiting, who always had a joke ready.
Penny walked over. “Ms. Mayfair, this is my brother, Rafael. He goes by Rafe. Rafe, this is my school principal, Ms. Mayfair.”
Rafe exhaled and held out his hand. Ms. Mayfair shook it, smiling politely. This woman made a fucking pantsuit look sexy—something Rafe had only seen on television.
“I’ve been waiting to meet you,” Rafe said, sending Penny a “get lost” look, which she completely ignored.
“Oh?”
Ms. Mayfair was still polite. Distant. She was too far away, physically and emotionally.
“Yeah,” Rafe said. “Penny, can you give me a minute?”
Penny scowled and marched off. If she were human, it would have been a respectable distance. As a shifter, she’d be able to listen in on the entire conversation. But Rafe couldn’t call her on it without outing them both.
Ms. Mayfair had looked away, out toward the parking lot.
“Sorry,” Rafe said. “I know you’re working. I was just hoping we could maybe—”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I have to stop you there because I have a feeling I know where this is going. At the risk of sounding presumptuous, I must tell you that I don’t date parents…or relations of my students. It’s too complicated.”
“Compli—” Rafe started. Then he shook his head. The words, the excuses, they didn’t matter. She was shutting him down. Hard. “Got it,” he said. “Can I at least get your first name?”
He could see the conflict in her eyes—she wanted to say no. She wanted to keep everything from him. But a flicker of warmth flashed in the blue-gray of her irises and she said, “Brigitte.”
A soft G. Sounded French. Rafe nodded. “Nice to meet you, Brigitte. Come on, Penny.”
Penny was obviously trying not to laugh as they walked to his Pathfinder.
“Not a word,” Rafe said. “Not one single word.”
As soon as they were in the car, seat belts buckled, Penny burst into laughter. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But it was just so…sad.”
The little stinker. Nine years old, and way too wise for her years. Six months ago, his parents had lucked out in a shifter adoption lottery when Penny had been discovered—an unknown shifter, moving through the foster system. Simple accident of birth. Her father must not have known he’d gotten a human pregnant. The mother had tried to raise Penny on her own, but succumbed to addiction when Penny was a toddler.
Rafe was sad about Penny’s hard beginning, but thrilled to have a sister. He could live without the humiliation right now. Damn, the way Ms. Mayfair—Brigitte—had turned all cold on him, before he could even stammer out an invitation to grab coffee or lunch sometime. The professional tone she’d used, like she was writing a textbook on How to Turn Down Losers.
But then, the way her eyes had softened when she told him her name.
He wasn’t going to get over this for a long time. Maybe never.
“So, Penny,” he said, making his voice conciliatory. “How good are you at keeping a secret?”
“How good are you at driving to Dristan’s Deli and buying a milkshake?” she shot back.
Rafe nodded. “This is how it’s going to be, huh? Okay. Then I’m very good at that.”
“Good enough to do it every day for two weeks?”
Ooh, so he had a blackmailer on his hands. He put on his turn signal to head over to Dristan’s Deli. “Done.”
“Then I’ll consider keeping this a secret.”
Three
With a huge sigh, Brigitte pulled the bobby pins from her hair, then shook out her bun. She usually waited until she got home to let herself go, but she’d been at her desk for hours after the school day had ended, writing down last-minute notes for the teacher workshop, making calls to parents. Damien’s parents had been grateful for her call—she’d wanted to warn them that he’d had a rough day. A romantic poem he’d written for his teacher had somehow gotten into the hands of his classmate, Amy Jo. Luckily Brigitte had confiscated the poem before anyone was able to copy it down or take photos of it with their phones, but Amy Jo and her friends were still reciting lines.
The conflict mediation workshop for teachers couldn’t come soon enough. Once the teachers were on board, they’d be able to utilize these tactics in the classroom. One step closer to a culture of understanding.
Marcellus still hadn’t called or texted. Frowning at her phone, she slipped it into the side pocket of her briefcase.
Brigitte powered down her computer and rubbed her scalp. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the black computer screen. Her hair looked wild, curly. It reminded her of how her grandfather had described Nanny Mae. “Bright, wild hair. Bright, wild spirit.” Brigitte didn’t feel particularly bright or wild, but remembering her grandmother made her smile.
She pulled on her coat and gathered her things before heading out to the parking lot. It was cold outside, and the wind bit through her coat, chilling her. She’d heard the Montana winters barreled straight through spring, but this seemed a bit extreme. She remembered Ellen’s invitation to move out to San Diego with her. Tempting on nights like this one.
She reached her car—a boring, older model BMW sedan—and struggled with the lock. The battery of her remote lock had died a couple of weeks ago, but she hadn’t gotten it replaced yet.
A sharp, stabbing pain caught her in the shoulder. She cried out, shifting her weight to put her back to the car. What had hit her? There hadn’t been a sound.
Shadows moved, at the edges of her peripheral vision. But when Brigitte turned her head to look for them, they seemed to disappear.
Someone pinned her to the car. The coolness of her car door seeped through her clothes. She kicked out, yelled and screamed as loud as she could, but the teachers and janitorial staff had already left the school grounds. No one would hear her.
She struggled against the arms that held her, but they were immovable.
Black eyes glittered in front of her. Terror. Darkness. Then ever
ything faded away.
Four
Rafe hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. The owner of a construction company had been reported missing, and Corona Mountains Rescue had needed Rafe’s help. The non-profit paid fairly decent wages, but not decent enough to distract him from his lack of sleep.
As he turned onto the street for Belnedge Elementary, he reminded himself that he’d switched his shifts for a reason—a beautiful, red-haired reason. And because the direct approach wasn’t going to work with her, today he’d try something indirect. He’d lure her over with his pretty feathers.
Feathers. Funny, given he was a mountain lion. But Nina had once told him this particular sweater made his muscular torso irresistible. He had absolutely nothing to lose, so he’d try it out on Brigitte.
He had moves. Good ones. He just needed to get her close enough to see them and appreciate them.
This morning, after his shift with CMR, he’d indulged in imagining what things would be like when he finally got close to Brigitte. His cock had been hot and heavy in his hand while he pumped it up and down. He fantasized about her lips wrapped around him at the same time his mouth tasted her pussy. He dreamed about how soft her skin would be as it slid against his, how she’d writhe with pleasure.
A car horn sounded behind him, destroying his reverie. He shook his head. Now was certainly not the time to be thinking like this. He needed to focus. First things first—he had to get her to agree to a date.
Penny was waiting by the steps like she had been yesterday, her black hair in pigtail braids, her bright blue eyes searching for him. Rafe sent a smile her way as he parked. She looked a little more somber than usual. It was probably a good thing that he had to take her to Dristan’s for a milkshake. Maybe a cold infusion of sugar would cheer her up.
He glanced around the parking lot as he got out of his SUV. Brigitte was nowhere to be found—no brilliant head of hair, no shy, reserved smile, no professional reassurances. Damn, he’d love to be the one to make her lose that professional veneer.
“She’s not here today,” Penny said when he reached her. “Out sick.”