by Anna Lowe
Perfection
Blue Moon Saloon
by
Anna Lowe
The Prequel
Perfection
Copyright 2016 by Anna Lowe
[email protected]
Editing by Lisa A. Hollett
Cover art by Jacqueline Sweet
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.
Other books in this series
Blue Moon Saloon
Perfection (a short story prequel)
Damnation (Book 1)
Temptation (Book 2)
Redemption (Book 3)
Salvation (Book 4)
Deception (Book 5)
Celebration (a holiday treat)
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Desert Wolf: Friend or Foe (Book 1.1 in the Twin Moon Ranch series)
Off the Charts (the prequel to the Serendipity Adventure series)
Perfection (the prequel to the Blue Moon Saloon series)
Contents
Cover page
Title page
Copyright
Other books in this series
Free books
Contents
Perfection
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Sneak Peek: Damnation
Damnation: Chapter 1
Free books
Books by Anna Lowe
More from Anna Lowe
AnnaLoweBooks.com
Perfection
It’s a stormy, winter’s night in the mountains, and she-wolf Jessica Macks is desperate to find shelter. So desperate, she’ll even settle for an unoccupied bear den, despite all the warnings she’s heard about her pack’s mysterious neighbors. It doesn’t take long before unwanted company in the form of bear shifter Simon Voss comes lumbering in. The two can let out their claws and fight, or they can lower their defenses and keep each other warm. But the instinct to survive isn’t the only force at work in that cozy den — destiny is, too. Before Jessica and Simon know it, they’re cuddled together in human form and letting warm heat right over to hot as they give in to temptation for the very first time.
A short story prequel to Damnation, Book 1 in the Blue Moon Saloon series.
Chapter One
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***
Jessica licked another thick snowflake off her nose and squinted into the blizzard. Even in her wolf form and with the protection of her thick fur, she shivered as she sniffed the air. Could she not recognize a single landmark in this storm?
Not a one. Shit.
What had started as a pretty snowfall had turned into a full-fledged blizzard even the old-timers in this part of Montana would talk about for years. She’d lost her bearings hours ago. The snow filled her tracks within seconds, and the whiteout erased any visual reference in the dense woods. Even her keen canine nose couldn’t find anything familiar through three feet of fresh snow that smelled more like the sky than anything on earth. She pawed at the ground in the lee of a fallen tree and sniffed. Was this rotting pine the one on Cooper’s Hill or the one over the ridge at Eagle Point? An entirely different one, maybe?
Shit. She really was lost. She had to find shelter — and soon. Somewhere behind the thick clouds of the snowstorm, the sun was setting, and the already-freezing temperature would drop further the moment it did.
She stood perfectly still, trying to decide what to do while warming her paws against the fur of her belly. First, the right paw, then the left, shifting her weight each time. Within seconds, though, the sharp bite of cold came slicing back into her toes. Her ears were so stiff they barely moved, and her whole muzzle hurt from the frigid bite of the wind.
God, she really needed to find shelter. What the hell had she been thinking, straying so far from home in the middle of a blizzard?
But no one — not even her grandmother, who claimed to feel weather in her bones — had predicted a blizzard, so Jessica had set out on a little afternoon run to enjoy the silent beauty of the woods. It was all so peaceful, so serene — until the gentle whisper of the wind in the pines gradually rose to a howl and the pretty snowfall turned into an all-out storm.
Get to the lee side of the mountain. Find a den among the rocks. The wolf half of her mind recited the lessons that had been drilled into her since she was a pup.
She leaned into the wind and followed the contour of the slope. Sometimes, the crunchy surface of the freezing snow would hold her weight, but occasionally, her paws would break through and she would wallow in hip-deep snow. Again and again, she clawed her way out, wishing there were such a thing as snowshoes for canines.
Keep moving. Don’t stop.
She stumbled past a boulder where the urge to rest and curl up into a ball was so strong, she had to jolt her feet into motion again.
Just for a second, a sleepy inner voice cried.
She shook her head. Not now.
Just a little nap…
A nap she’d never wake up from.
Just a little break…
She’d take a break when she found shelter and no sooner.
What if there’s no shelter?
She gritted her teeth and pushed on. There had to be shelter somewhere, right?
She waited for a little voice to answer, Right. But there was nothing. Only a gnawing sense of dread that, this time, she might never make it home. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not even in a couple of days when the storm blew itself out. Not ever.
Jessica flattened her ears against her skull and picked up her pace. She gave her tail an angry swipe and muttered into the night. This storm couldn’t stop her. She was fit and tough and strong. She could withstand a little cold and she could certainly fight her way out of a close call. She was a shifter, after all, and the daughter of Black River pack’s ruling alpha. She wouldn’t — couldn’t — fail.
But hell, she’d never come this close before.
She shook her tail and let the motion travel all the way through her spine, sending snow flying off her fur. The shake was so vehement, her ears slapped the sides of her face. Which helped, in a way, to force herself into the uncompromising state of mind needed to soldier on.
Just another walk in the woods, she lied to herself. Just another long walk home.
The wind howled through the trees. Boughs bent, dumping heavy loads of snow she scrambled to avoid. She pushed her nose forward and marched on, making her way more by feel than sight.
A tree creaked. The snow piled into drifts against trees and rocks. The wind screamed to a high shriek, then dropped an octave again.
After another minute of slow progress, she perked up one ear. The wind had subsided slightly. Was she in the lee of the mountain at last? The snow wasn’t quite as deep, and the wind chill less vicious. But it was getting darker by the second, and there was no sign of life anywhere. No hoot of an owl, no skitter of a deer’s hooves. Just the heaving huff of her own breath and the swirling pattern of condensation that followed every exhale.
The footing grew tricky over rocky terrain, where the snow hid crevices deep enough to swallow her up. She slipped over one, then another
, seeking a den, a dent — any hint of shelter where she might survive the night. She pushed her nose between two boulders but came up against a dead end. Tried another gap, then another, in an increasingly urgent mission to find some way to survive. She nosed her way around a fallen tree, heading for a rock barely visible in the whiteout ahead, and—
Her head whipped around to the right.
Over there, instinct whispered.
Over where? she wanted to cry out. There was no shelter there, just a jagged line of rock.
Right there.
She strained to see anything promising. Took a step closer, sniffed, and turned away in disgust.
But a split second later, her nostrils widened, processing a tiny, residual scent. Something warm and musky. Intriguing, almost, in a hard to define way.
Something promising.
Right there. The heavy tone of that inner voice made her wonder if instinct was pointing at more than just a place to rest.
She nosed into the space between a boulder and a rock wall, where a pine had fallen and formed a tiny, covered space. It was too shallow to offer any real shelter from this storm, but she didn’t have much choice now. She took another step, rubbing her side against the wall of rock to trace the inward bend. She kept her chin down to avoid bumping her nose against solid rock and advanced a little more. And a little more, and a little more…
One slab of rock ended, and the next only started after a gap. A gap she ventured into slowly, because the smell was stronger now.
It smelled like freshly sawed wood. Like moss and earth and…honey, of all things. But most of all, it smelled of something big and tough and uncompromising.
Bear. It smelled of bear.
She stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t as if she was a stranger to bears. The woods were thick with grizzlies. The mountain meadows grew crowded with them in the early fall when the giants feasted on berries that exploded all over the southern slopes. Bears were fine — from a distance. But no sane wolf wandered into a bear den — especially one with that fresh a scent.
But dang, it smelled so…nice. So hers. Which was probably proof that the cold had gotten to her brain, because why on earth would the scent of bear make her feel so happy or so safe?
She raised her nose and sniffed deeply. The den was unoccupied — no telltale warmth, no wafting scent of moist fur. But the scent was fresh enough to suggest a grizzly had been by recently. Which didn’t make sense. Once a bear settled into its den for the winter, it stayed put.
Unless…
She shivered, and not just from the cold. What if the den belonged to one of the bear shifters from the clan that lived on the other side of the mountain? Big, burly, confident men and women, those bear shifters. Especially the men — hunky Paul Bunyan-types with huge hands and scruffy beards. Only the elders of her wolf pack dealt with the bear clan — and that, in brief meetings made as few and far between as possible. Bears were unpredictable, unreliable, and uncouth, the elders said as they filled the ears of young pups with cautionary tales.
Jessica backed away. She knew better than to tangle with a bear.
Not this one, a naughty voice in the back of her mind said. This one you’d love to tangle with. Tangle, tango, touch…
She backed up even more quickly, shaking her head. What was wrong with her?
The second her haunches were exposed to the bitter cold outside, she stopped. That den was her only means of survival. Her last chance. And anyway, she had to be the only shifter crazy enough to be out in this storm, right?
When she stepped back into the shelter, her body nearly sighed, and not just from the switching-off effect that had on the whipping wind.
She peered into the darkness. If she’d been in human form, she’d have whispered into the low cave.
Anybody home?
Instead, she growled. If there was a grizzly in there, she’d meet it with bared teeth and four firmly planted feet. She’d show him what she was made of. She’d…she’d…
Aw, hell, what would she really do? She could hold her own among the wolves, but with a bear? No way.
This one’s a good bear, the voice insisted. A bear to hold, not to fight away.
She blinked the very notion away. How the hell would she hold a goddamn bear? And why would she want to?
She let the growl build in her chest and sent it into the darkness ahead. Stepping slowly around the corner, she let her eyes adjust and exhaled.
No bear. No danger. No foe. Just a perfect, cozy den. There weren’t any craggy corners of rock to poke into her back, nor any dripping stalactites. Very little moisture at all, in fact, but for a trickle of a stream from which a thirsty wolf might drink.
Or a thirsty bear.
She gulped, trying not to let her imagination get the best of her. She’d be fine. She’d settle down for the night and hightail it out the second the blizzard broke.
Looking from the outside in, the den had seemed deep and dark, but when she peered from the inside toward the entrance, there was just enough light to make out her surroundings. The den was big enough for two bears on friendly terms—
Or a bear and a wolf, the naughty voice murmured.
A thick layer of dry grass blanketed the ground on the left side of the den. She turned three circles, creating a nest, and settled down with a watchful eye on the entrance. Arranging her paws so they overlapped, she let her weary eyes slide shut. Her nose, she tucked into a pocket amidst the pads of her feet and covered it up with her tail.
There. She was safe. Settled.
She could have sighed with the sheer pleasure of warmth seeping back into her body. Of her internal furnace working faithfully and her fur trapping the heat.
She breathed deeply, and her mind was muddled enough to savor the scent, too. A nice, woodsy, masculine scent.
I like, her wolf mumbled, settling down to sleep. I want.
Her human mind was buried deeper, and it simply shook the hallucination off.
I need, her wolf murmured, but she was already fast asleep.
Chapter Two
Jessica felt as if she’d barely fallen asleep before her ears shot up like twin periscopes. She froze, perfectly still, listening.
At first, there was nothing, but then she heard it again. Muffled footsteps and a chuffing sound. Her head snapped up and she scrambled to her feet as the footsteps grew closer. Heavy, confident footsteps that scuffed right up to the entrance without hesitation, until they halted abruptly.
The bristly hair along the ridgeline of her wolf’s spine rose, and she growled under her breath.
She sniffed and scrambled backward, hitting the near wall of the cave with her rump. Shit. Trapped. She was trapped by something very big and very dangerous and—
Very manly, the husky voice threw in. And oh, so good.
She growled at herself and at that ridiculous inner voice.
That was a bear out there, and not the cuddly type.
She growled louder. No point playing possum now.
The bear chuffed and shuffled forward. The bulk of him made the cave go dim even before he turned the corner into her line of sight. When he eased into view, the only light entering the cave was that haloing his thick fur — fur that had to be a sandy shade of gold to make the light reflect that way. All she could make out was his outline and the puffs of condensation that accompanied each heavy sniff he stole of her scent. The halo shifted around the edges as his lungs expanded then contracted with every breath of air.
Her heart pounded in time with his deep breaths. Thump — a deep inhale. Thump — a heavy exhale. Thump — another inhale, in which he seemed to gobble up her scent. To consume it, almost. The shiny points of light that were his eyes grew wide. He stood at the entrance for a full minute, rumbling under his breath. A funny kind of rumble that was only part warning. The other part was a sound a hell of a lot like the noise bears made when they stuffed themselves with berries. A deeply satisfied, all-well-in-the-soul kind of rumble.
&
nbsp; She snarled, ignoring the instinct to wag her tail and greet him like a long-lost friend.
The bear filled the entrance for another long minute. He rubbed one massive shoulder against the cave wall, marking his turf and growling in a way that was equal parts warning and invitation. He loomed over her, damn it, like he owned the whole damn mountain and everything on it.
Including her.
Jess turned on her best glare and surreptitiously took another sniff. He was a shifter for sure. Which was far worse than a run-in with any ordinary bear. With an ordinary bear, there’d be no tricks. Just a quick death or the mercy of being driven back out into the storm. Simple. Straightforward, with none of the malice or trickery of humankind.
But a shifter?
Shit, shit, shit. She’d heard so many stories about werebears. Stories that seemed exaggerated until a live example stood inches away, baring thick, ivory teeth. Werebears were crude, brutish things, the stories said. Dangerous. Dirty. Unkempt. Prone to wild, temperamental outbursts.
So, okay, this bear hadn’t exactly burst into any sudden action yet. But any second now, he was sure to. And the fact that he smelled so damn good was only the scent of the woods covering what was sure to be some kind of stinky, rotten odor. Right?
He started circling her, scrubbing a shoulder against the cave wall as he went, filling the cave with his scent. She backed away, snarling the whole time. A shaft of light shot into the den when he stepped clear of the entrance, bathing his sandy fur in a golden, ethereal light. He chuffed and blinked at her through eyes as blue as a cloudless summer sky.
Grrrrrrr, the bear growled deeply, coming closer. Let me sniff you, he seemed to say.
Grrrrrrr, she echoed in her much less effective alto. Stay the fuck away.
His low bass shook her bones. Her high snarl was a laughable tickle in comparison, but she kept it up anyway. Bear or no bear, she’d show him how tough she could be.