Sold To The Bears (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1)

by Amira Rain

  I really didn't care which; I was equally curious to hear the answers to both. Lord only knew I'd been wondering what Grant's responses would be for long enough. Granted, it had only been a couple of days, but they'd certainly been long days.

  Looking deeply into my eyes, Grant stilled his caressing of my hands and took a deep breath before speaking. "All right. First question first. I have a guilty conscience, and have for the past decade-and-a-half or so, because I couldn't save you from the wolves when you were a little girl. I was there. I was there that night when they attacked your town and killed your birth parents.

  “I was there when they chased you into the woods, trying to kill you. I was there, but I couldn't save you. There was just one of me, no other bears around for miles, and I was just fourteen. I'd just learned to shift. And there were hundreds of wolves."

  I sat stunned, realizing that this had been the event that had "changed" Grant, that Mil had told me about when I'd first arrived in Sun Creek. The event that had turned him into the serious, authoritative man he was at present.

  With a small crease forming between his sky blue eyes, he continued. "Once I learned to shift, I began exploring the wilds and towns all over the state. Normally, boys aren't allowed to explore alone until maybe seventeen or eighteen, but I was headstrong and confident, and those were somewhat safer days in terms of wolf attacks, at least around here.

  “My parents finally relented to let me go out alone for a couple of days. They set boundaries, however, but being that I was an adventurous teenage boy, and more than a bit cocky with my new power and abilities as a shifter, I soon ventured far, far beyond those boundaries.

  “I soon found myself on the outskirts of Coldwater, your hometown. And there, that night, I witnessed the horrific attack that took place. I watched from afar as most everyone was slaughtered and the town pillaged and torched. I was panic-stricken.

  “I didn't know what to do. I shifted back into human form and tried to use my phone, but there was no signal near that tiny town. Even if I had been able to place a call, help wouldn't have arrived in time. Everything happened so fast. I could only just watch. Just watch, panic-stricken and helpless."

  Shifting his gaze down to our clasped hands, Grant's eyes became filled with pain. It was an expression so very different from his usual look of calm confidence. I felt like I was getting a glimpse of the fourteen-year-old boy he'd been during the attack. A long moment or two went by before he lifted his gaze to my face and resumed speaking.

  "You must have been the last survivor from your tiny town. I saw you run into the woods with your double French braids with the tiny white rosebuds woven into them. They stood out so clearly against your dark hair."

  I had a sudden, crystal-clear memory, though a memory of something that felt as if it hadn't actually been reality, but a dream. My birth mother had liked to weave tiny little rosebuds into my hair. And I'd loved it when she'd do this. I'd even ask to sleep with the flowers still in my hair.

  I thought back to the night of the attack, and then the day, which I hadn't done in years. I hadn't remembered details, and trying to do so had only made me anxious and sad. Now I remembered that day, the hours before the attack. Or, at least, a little snippet of the hours before the attack.

  It had been sunny and warm, and I'd sat in a kitchen chair while my birth mother had braided my hair and had woven the little rosebuds into it, humming. She'd loved roses so much. I remembered how much she'd also loved singing and humming. I could vaguely picture her face, something I had not been able to do in I wasn't even sure how long. She'd had a rosy-cheeked round face, with bright green eyes.

  My own eyes suddenly became a bit misty, and I blinked back the moisture. "Sorry. Keep going. I want to hear all this, Grant."

  The question he'd asked me after our first night of intimacy, about if I'd worn flowers braided into my hair as a little girl, suddenly made sense. He'd wanted to know for sure if I'd been the little girl that had been chased by the wolves. I'd honestly thought he'd been drunk and talking nonsense at the time.

  In response to my saying I wanted him to keep talking, Grant leaned over and brushed a light kiss against my cheek, and then my mouth. "Are you sure?"

  Blinking back the remaining traces of moisture in my eyes, I nodded. "Yes. I want to hear all of it."

  After studying my face for a long moment, he resumed recalling the night of the attack. "I was so close to you. I was so close that in the light from all the bonfires and torched homes, I could even see the unusual indigo shade of your eyes.

  “I was that close, hidden. However, the wolves were closer. They chased you deeper into the forest before I had any real chance of snatching you away, and I followed behind, trying to remain stealthy and hidden."

  With his pale blue eyes positively radiating pain, Grant heaved a quiet sigh. "I knew what was going to happen next, after they'd had their fill of chasing you through the woods just to terrify you.

  “I knew they were going to kill you, just for sport. Being that there were dozens of them, and just one of me, I knew I couldn't stop it. I knew it was inevitable. I made a decision. Even if it led to us both getting killed, as I was certain it would, I was going to defend you. I was going to defend you as long as I could before they killed me. I couldn't just watch or run away while a little girl was ripped to shreds. At least not without trying to help her.

  “I knew if I didn't try, I would never be able to live with myself anyway, so I figured I may as well lay down my life there and then. I thought it might even give you some comfort in your terror.

  “I resolved that even if I was just a relatively weak fourteen-year-old bear shifter, you wouldn't die undefended. I knew that for you to die alone in the woods without anyone fighting for you just wouldn't be right, even though I knew defending you would mean my own death."

  A grandfather clock in the hallway chimed nine o'clock, and while it did, Grant picked up my hands and kissed each of them several times, slowly, before continuing as the last chime faded.

  "Once the wolves had tackled you and were about to go in for the kill, I hid behind a tree, ready to charge out and surprise them in bear form at the last second. One of the wolves slowly raised a paw above you, intending to slash your throat, I was sure. I opened my mouth to roar, and I'd just lifted a paw to charge out.

  “At that same split second, the man that I now know became your adoptive father, called out for the wolf above you to stop. He said there had been enough killing and that you should be taken back to Stony Rapids. To my surprise, the group of wolves very reluctantly agreed to this. Then you were gone. Onto whatever bleak new life, I could only guess.

  “Your life had been spared, and I hadn't had to lay down mine in the process, so I was thankful and relieved. The memory of that night has always haunted me, though, and it shaped me into the leader I am today. I never wanted to feel as small, helpless, and panic-stricken as I did on that night.

  “I worked hard to become stronger, better, faster. More powerful. No matter how strong I became, I always wondered what had become of the little girl with the tiny white rosebuds in her hair. I always wondered if you'd been able to find even a sliver of happiness and security.

  “When Adrian, Samuel, and I came to Stony Rapids for the auction, I hoped to find out. Then, in a twist of fate that made me feel as if I'd literally had the wind knocked out of me, I came face to face with the girl with the indigo-colored eyes, and in the same situation as you'd been in when I'd seen you last. Running from the wolves.

  “I was positive it was you, and it wasn't just your unusual eyes alone, I just knew it in my gut. I vowed that now that I'd found you again, all grown up, I'd never let the wolves hurt you again.

  “So, as you can imagine, I was more than just a bit upset the other night when I saw you on the ground, fighting off two wolves. Especially when I figured that you were the one who'd put yourself in that position."

  With his eyes darkening just slightly, and brie
fly, Grant paused before continuing. "But at the same time, fate finally gave me the chance to save you from the wolves, like I'd wanted to do all those years ago, and I was glad to finally do it. To be completely honest, though, I would have even more gladly forgone that bit of satisfaction to not have you in harm's way in the first place. I shudder to think about what could have happened had I not gotten there right when I did."

  The very slightest of literal shudders actually seemed to ripple through Grant, underscoring his words.

  With emotion welling in my chest, I squeezed his hands. "Thank you. For the other night, and for all those years ago. You were my hero...both times, even though I didn't even know it during the first. And as far as you having a 'guilty conscience' about what happened all those years ago...." I gave my head a quick shake, unable to even finish the thought.

  "Grant, just promise me something. I promised you a bit ago that from now on, I'll always listen to you and follow your instructions about my safety, and now I want you to promise me this. Promise me that you'll never have a single guilty thought about what happened all those years ago ever again. It's just...." I gave my head another quick shake, in disbelief about his thinking. "It's just plain ridiculous for you to even think that way. You were a boy, and you were ready to lay down your life to defend mine. That was heroic. You should be proud, and you should have been proud all these years. So, please...promise me your 'guilty conscience' is gone for good."

  "All right. I'll promise. But on one condition. And I'm not quite sure how you're going to like it."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I looked at Grant, sure I was frowning. "What's the one condition?”

  I didn't like the sound of it, though I was ready to agree to just about anything if it would get Grant to promise to never feel guilty about him not being able to save me from the wolves when we'd both been kids.

  He lifted our clasped hands and kissed each one of mine in turn before speaking again. "This may seem strange, but the one condition is that you, Adrian, and I continue to share a bed for a while longer."

  I stifled a chuckle. "Oh, that's...that's no problem."

  Grant's sky blue eyes twinkled.

  "Good. I only ask this because I can sense us becoming much closer the past several days...both physically and emotionally...and I get the feeling you may be leaning one way over the other. Which is fine...which is more than fine, if my hunch as to which way you're leaning is correct.

  “However, that being said, I don't want you to decide with finality at this point. When you do decide, I want you to have no regrets. I want you to be absolutely certain. If you eventually decide that you'd like to spend the rest of your life with me, I don't want you to have even the slightest of lingering doubts that your choice may have been different if you'd been given more time.

  “So, I'll promise to start thinking of what happened with the wolves when we were kids in a different way...a less guilty way...if you'll promise to continue sharing your bed with both Adrian and me for a while longer. Is it a deal?"

  This would be the easiest deal I'd ever agreed to in my life.

  I nodded. "It's a deal. And it might be a bit of a sacrifice, but...I'll try to bear it."

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. Before Grant and I made any move to get up and answer it, Adrian strolled in from the foyer to the living room wearing nothing but a pair of battered jeans that hung low on his slim hips.

  The glow from several small end-table lamps illuminated the chiseled contours of his muscular chest. His eyes also appeared even a deeper green than usual in the soft, low light.

  I was very, very physically attracted to Grant, sure. Without a doubt. But Adrian also did it for me, too, and in a pretty profound way. I was beginning to feel thoroughly addicted to both of their bodies and the intimacy the three of us shared. I could almost feel drunk on it at times.

  Grant wasn't the only man I cared about on an emotional level, either. I'd also grown to care about Adrian in that way as well. Usually in a playful, joking mood, he made me laugh. A lot. It made me feel good just to be around him. He was always heavy on the compliments, and heavy on sincerity as well.

  Grant had, of course, proven to be a bit quieter. A bit on the brooding side. However, the more time I spent with him, the more this side endeared him to me Now that he'd really opened up to me, I could see what the source of his serious nature was, and where it had come from. I was still in a bit of shock that the source had been the wolves' attack on me when I was just seven.

  While I liked Adrian's near-constant good humor, at the same time, there was something very attractive about Grant's stoicism. There was a masculinity about his whole personality and demeanor, and that seemed to attract me like a magnet. It made me think about him near-constantly when he wasn't around.

  He was right in thinking that I had an idea who I might ultimately choose to be my mate for life. However, I was glad no one was pressing me for an official answer quite yet, and in fact, quite the opposite now that I'd agreed to Grant's little deal. Sharing a bed with both him and Adrian nearly every evening was turning out to be way too much fun.

  The three of us shared a bed that night, with Grant and Adrian more or less reversing the positions they'd taken the previous night. This time, Adrian pleasured me with his mouth while I pleasured Grant with my own. In turn, they both made love to me from behind.

  While Grant worked his thick rod in and out of my slickness with exquisitely slow, deep strokes, grunting, he wrapped my long dark hair around his fist and periodically gave it a few little tugs. The action, combined with the feel of his manhood thrusting in and out of my depths, gave me such a powerful climax I saw stars.

  The next day, Grant and Adrian were both, once again, already gone when I awoke.

  Over breakfast, Mil told me that during the night, there had been more trouble with the wolves from Howell.

  "Apparently, the past several weeks, they've been targeting the city's whiskey. Which, as you know, is our main export, and the main source of community prosperity here in Sun Creek. They've been stealing cases of it from the warehouses while in human form, then shifting into wolf form to fight our bear guards each time they're caught. They've also been attacking the export trucks as they carry whiskey out of the city to sell in Ashcrest and the various other towns we trade with."

  After pausing to take a sip of her black coffee, Mil continued. "As you can imagine, Grant is none too pleased about all this, and growing more displeased by the day. After taking out dozens of the wolves over the past month, he thought the attacks would stop, but they haven't.

  “He'll have a meeting with his council tonight to formulate a plan to deal with these Howell wolves once and for all, then he'll have a family meeting, here in the family quarters, to let us all know what's going on. And despite the fact that you're not technically family...yet, of course you're more than welcome to be present.”

  I definitely planned on being present. I wanted the wolves taken out probably just as much as Grant did, and I was very curious to know what plans to this end he'd make with the council.

  I expected the day to drag, but it actually flew by. While Mil looked after Brandon and Martin, Fiona and I took a long hike down a sunlit path that arced through the woods near the house. Because of all the recent wolf attacks, two shifter guards accompanied us, though they followed far enough behind that Fiona and I had a little privacy to talk freely and share a few laughs.

  I usually did a lot of laughing while with Fiona. Like Adrian, her cousin, her personality definitely didn't lean toward the serious side. Being around her was a good stress reliever. Plus, it was nice to have a friend my own age to talk to.

  The day was sunny and unusually warm for late September. Many of the trees in the forest had just begun to turn from green to brilliant shades of gold, and the sight of them, combined with Fiona's joking banter, was just enough to make me forget all about the family meeting that night.

  Once we'd had enough
fresh air, Fiona took me to her art studio located in a storefront facing the cobblestone-lined town square, and we spent the entire afternoon there. Fiona's primary passion was watercolor painting, and she gave lessons at her studio.

  She tried to teach me a few basics, but I proved to be not very good at it. Making pottery and ceramics seemed to be more my speed, which was funny, because Fiona had little interest in these areas and didn't think she'd be able to teach me very well. But despite this, I seemed to get the knack for it quickly and made a few different pieces of pottery.

  After I'd made a tall, slender vase that Fiona declared "flawless," she looked from it to me with a little crease between her big brown eyes, seeming to be deep in thought. "You know...I don't know if you're looking for a thing, but this could be your thing.

  “What I mean by that is, I know you've said you're looking forward to being a wife and a mother someday, which Lord only knows is enough of a job, so I've heard. But if you wanted something on top of that...if you wanted a thing all your own...I could see you becoming really, really good at this pottery and ceramics thing.