Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

  I lower my eyes, which is something I’d never done with him. He reaches out and lifts my chin with his finger. “I will gladly accept you into our clan.” My breath hitches and he wipes a lone tear from my cheek. “My mate would love to meet you.”

  He steps back and I move to the side when the bear from earlier pushes against the door. “Come,” he says. I turn back to Dmitri, but he’s no longer in the room.

  Damn sneaky vampires.

  I silently follow the bear out of the nightclub to a park. He stays while I shift and spend an hour walking through the bushes and trees in my bear form. My heart aches for Tyboll. What have I done?

  Chapter Twelve

  Tyboll

  “What the hell do you mean you allowed her to leave?” I roar at my liege as I grab a vase from his desk and throw it against the wall.

  Dmitri’s eyes go amber. “Try asking that again, bear.” His clipped, steely voice brings me out of my suicidal rampage. Dmitri can kill me with little more than a flick of his wrist.

  Dammit. I’m losing my mind. I put my hands on the sides of my head and pull my too-short hair. “I can’t take this.”

  “You will take it. She will return in two days. It took you long enough to come after her.”

  My head lifts. “I will go insane. I cannot take another day.”

  “I will give you plenty to do to pass the time. Now that you’re presentable, the club can use you.”

  I bite back a growl.

  Ten hours later, I’m in the basement bringing up another crate of alcohol and I growl as loudly as I can. The music, chattering noise from patrons, and the stink of humans has me gritting my teeth, which causes an ache in my head. Damn vampire.

  I walk up the stairs for the twentieth time tonight and freeze. The scent of my mate is in the air. She’s here. Early. I turn and set down the crate. Smoothing my fingers over my newly short hair, I realize I’m nervous. Me. One of the deadliest bears in the clan. Reacting like a wet-behind-the-ears cub. As each stride takes me closer to my mate anger takes over. No woman should have this power. Honey is the prime reason I won’t put up with Veda’s shit. He’s ridiculous in his behavior with his mate.

  I stomp out of the hallway with her scent leading me farther into the noisy club. I see Dmitri and hear his voice before I notice my mate’s body hidden by the hulking figure of the vampire.

  “He’s here and you have another full day. I will only grant safe passage through tomorrow.”

  “What the hell!” She will leave over my dead body. My growl turns to a roar as I start running. People move aside or I shove them. Blood pounds through my head and I don’t care that Dmitri blocks my path. A vampire has no right to step between mates.

  Dmitri’s palm hits my throat, sending me to the floor.

  Air. I need air.

  “Why did you do that?!” My mates demands. I would smile if I weren’t dying.

  “That bear needs to learn respect.” My liege places his hand out for me to take. I think about slapping it away, but the lack of oxygen repairs the temporary insanity that took over a few seconds before. I grab Dmitri’s hand and manage to gain my feet, though I’m bent double.

  “Last chance, witch,” Dmitri says.

  I glance up and get the first look at my mate in more than two weeks. She’s beautiful in tight jeans and a pink shirt. Longing swells inside me. I want to slide the jeans down her legs and bury my face between her thighs to inhale her scent. She has no idea about the things I want to do to her or she would run. I see indecision on her face. A small amount of air bypasses the swelling in my throat and I manage to croak, “Don’t run. Talk to me first.”

  She glances between me and Dmitri. The vampire steps back. I have a private bedroom at the club, which Dmitri gave me. I turn and head back down the hallway to the stairs. Veda follows. Every nerve ending I possess is aware of her. I cannot blow this.

  ***

  Veda

  I came early because I can no longer fight the pull of the mating call. I knew he was here the second I entered the club. There is nothing good about this mating. My line will end with me. I will never have a daughter to pass along my gift.

  And now I follow Tyboll meekly to my fate. A different Tyboll. Shaggy hair and beard no longer cover him. The man beneath the human fur is beautiful. Not that my bear cares one bit. Hair or no hair, he is my chosen mate. Every second since I left Dmitri several days ago has been spent trying to work out the why’s in my head. It did no good. The Goddess changed the rules and I can only follow.

  Tyboll opens a door when we get downstairs. He steps aside so I can enter first. The room is small with a single bed and a chair. I blush and have trouble turning to look at him as I hear the door close. He is close. I hear his breathing directly behind me. The hand he lays on my shoulder is hot. Too hot. I step forward so there is no longer contact between us, then I turn.

  Need.

  His eyes reflect the need in my own.

  “Tyboll,” I whisper.

  “I cannot allow you to leave. The pull is too strong.”

  I gulp air into my lungs. I feel it, too. I glance over to the bed. “Can we talk for a bit?” It’s the last thing I want to do, but I’m scared. We cannot take back this final step.

  He moves in closer and grasps my arms. Turning me, he presses closer to the front of me and my back hits the door. His hands skim down my arms until he threads his fingers through mine. Slowly he lifts our hands. Higher and higher. His massive chest presses into mine while my hands clear my head; he holds them with his iron grip against the door. His eyes burn with longing. I can’t breathe as his head tips down and his nose runs along my hairline to my jaw. Down my jaw and up around the other side. He scents me as I inhale his incredible smell.

  “No talking,” he breathes and suddenly his lips meet mine. My first kiss. He gently tastes me. I have no idea where he finds his control. I want his tongue in my mouth, but he is being so gentle. The taste of him intoxicates and frustrates me at the same time. With my hands held I can’t deepen the small biting kisses he places against my lips.

  “Tyboll, please.”

  He pulls back slightly. “I need you so badly.”

  Need. Not want. We need each other. It’s the mating call. “No talking. End this torture,” I beg.

  His eyes go dark a split second before his lips crash against mine. Gentleness is replaced with fierce desire. I instinctively suck his tongue deeply. My bear is just beneath the surface. I smell his just as strongly—wild, musky… perfect.

  I manage to pry my eyes open and he watches me as our lips devour each other’s. His hooded lids speak volumes. I. Need. Him. I press forward against his hands trying to lower mine. I want to touch him. He refuses. His lower body pushes more fully against me and his erection presses hard. I’m not afraid. Since I left him, all I’ve thought about is his body entering mine. Now I feel him so close to the part of me that aches with longing. I may go insane.

  A knock at the door startles us. I’m airborne before I know what’s happened. My back hits the bed as Tyboll rips the door off its hinges. I hear the connection of flesh on flesh then a groan. Not the vampire, thank the Goddess, or my mate would be dead.

  Tyboll props the door back up and pushes a large chest in front of it. He peels his shirt over his head and his hands go to the zipper of his pants. He shoves his pants down his legs. His erection flies free. He’s huge. Before I have time to consider the science of small hole, large man, he steps forward. And falls. His pants are down at his ankles and his shoes are stopping them from coming off. I try to stifle a burst of laughter, but I’m not successful. His fingers appear over the side of the bed and he crawls up until his face is at the apex of my thighs.

  “Just where I want to be,” he murmurs, which cuts off my laughter. “Too many clothes. This can’t be done with you dressed, woman.” He unsnaps my jeans and has the zipper pulled down as fast as he did his. My breath catches as he begins sliding the material down my legs. U
nlike him, I am wearing underwear. He hooks them with his fingers and they shimmy down with my jeans. He takes one of my legs and pulls the lower portion of my clothing off.

  “Your shirt. Take it off.” His eyes burn with an intense heat I can actually feel. I grab the bottom of the offending material and whip it over my head.

  I reach for my bra clasp. “Leave it,” he says. His legs stretch over the end of the bed with his pants hanging at his ankles. I would demand he be more considerate of what we are about to do, but then he shoves my legs apart and kisses me. There.

  Oh my. My mother never explained this. It matters little, though, because it feels so damn good. My head goes back as a deep moan escapes my lips. He suckles. My hips lift upward and Tyboll pushes them down. Without thought, my fingers find his hair. Short hair and it pisses me off. I need something to hold onto. He licks… I groan.

  A tight pressure builds. It centers where his mouth touches me. It aches to the point of pain. His finger enters me and I scream out as my body explodes. A white light bursts before my eyes. I see nothing in the room, only feel the energy rippling outward from my center. I open my eyes and Tyboll is directly above me with his hands on either side of my head. I feel shy. I feel replete. I smile.

  His lips lower to mine and I realize his erection is nudging against me. We aren’t finished. The tip of him finds me. He releases my lips and stares into my eyes. His hips thrust downward and this time my scream is not from pleasure. He immediately stills. “A virgin,” he whispers.

  I hurt and he’s still inside me. “What the hell did you expect, you flea-bitten, hairless bear rug?!”

  His forehead leans against mine, but I can see his slight smile. “I’m sorry. I should have expected a virgin.”

  Really? So I wasn’t good enough for a man. The thought is the exact opposite of the one before it. That’s how crazy this man makes me. I buck my hips, which only intensifies the ache. He’s not moving. As a matter of fact, a flutter inside of me wants him to move. His warm breath fans my face as he remains absolutely still. Too still.

  “Did you expire, bear?” I ask with a great amount of exasperation.

  His head tips up and his smile grows. His erection slides out slowly and just when I think he will remove himself from my body, he presses back in. A minute more of his slow glide and my body adjusts to the size of him. What he’s doing feels so much better now. Slow in… slow out. He’s watching me the entire time—our eyes locked together—our bodies as one.

  “You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he says as he flexes his hips and dips back in.

  What? Should I feel this is a romantic oath? I’m not his baby and he sure as hell isn’t my daddy. He stops moving again.

  “What now?” he demands. Demands!

  “This isn’t working,” I say with my teeth clenched.

  “Do all witches think so much while they fuck?” he grumbles.

  Nope, not romantic at all. What did I expect? I really have no idea.

  “We’re going to try something,” he mutters as he slides out of me and lifts his leg over mine. Before I understand what’s happening, he uses his huge hands and flips me to my stomach. I’m gaining my knees when he slides inside me from behind.

  “Hell,” I moan.

  His hands come down on mine and hold them to the bed. His body rocks into me with increasing drive. The energy builds, but this time it’s different. I can feel an electric force coming from him. His body is hot and I don’t mean hot looking, though it is that, too. No, his body temperature rises. The power rises. His bear is claiming mine. How in my befuddled mind did I not realize this? The great texts talk about it. A witch cannot be claimed. It’s what sets us apart from the bear clan.

  I don’t realize he has released my hand until he pulls my hair and jerks my head back. “Stop thinking and feel, you stubborn woman.” His growl is low and feral. His heat flows into my body. I try to catch my breath, but it’s impossible. He keeps ahold of my hair as he drives into me. I can no longer control my response even though I know it’s wrong.

  This time, the white light is a combustion of energy that ignites the room. The heat is everywhere. I scream in pain—the burn so intense my flesh seems to melt. Tyboll’s roar is no less painful. He falls against my back and holds me to his burning flesh as his shouts continue. We are dying. The Goddess is punishing us.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tyboll

  I think we are dead.

  It figures.

  After facing enemy cats and vampires, I’m taken down by a witch. My entire body hurts. My eyes are closed and I feel Veda still beneath me. Damn, but we’re going to be stuck in the afterlife together. I don’t think I even like her.

  The pounding on the door clears the smoke from my brain and I think we are in my room at Dmitri’s club. The smoke is real, though; the entire room is filled with it. I jump up because I realize the entire place must be burning down.

  My damned pants are still in the way and all I can do is hop. I throw the dresser away from the door then toss the door against the side wall.

  The hallway is filled with my clan but no smoke. They watch me in stunned fascination. The smoke from my room begins leaking out into the hall.

  What the hell is going on? I glance over my shoulder.

  “You’ve claimed a witch, you dumb-ass bear. You can’t claim a witch.” She’s up on her knees shouting. She’s incredible. She’s glorious. She’s mine!

  I turn back to our audience. “You heard her. I’ve done the impossible. Go about your business so I can do it again.” I pick up the door and cover the opening.

  This time when I peer at her, she looks stunned. My shoes are still on and my pants hang at my ankles. I look ridiculous. I bend over to remove my shoes when a pillow hits me in the ass.

  Veda is now standing on the bed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  I kick my shoes aside and step out of my pants. I take a step closer to the bed so she’s looking down at me. I grab her hips and pull them toward me. I smell her. I smell us. It’s as it should be. I may not like her very much, but our combined scent is perfect. And even more perfect, she stops talking for a minute.

  “Tyboll, the Goddess will punish us.” She pants the words.

  I sink my nose farther against her skin and she inhales sharply. “Will it always be so painful to take a witch or just the first time?” I ask against her flesh.

  “I have no idea?”

  I hear fear in her voice and look up. “Explain the why to me later.” I pull her down and push her back. I follow her to the bed pulling her knees over my shoulders. No matter the pain I will suffer for another chance to claim her body. She likes my tongue on her here. She focuses on what I do to her not on the other foolishness that’s always going through her crazy head. I want her mouth on me, too. Later… I will demand it later.

  She doesn’t fight me and her breathing goes ragged. I glance up and see her head thrown back, her red hair splayed around her face. She has red hair down here, too. Somehow red isn’t so bad anymore. I think I might even like it. I tease her flesh with my tongue and feel her body respond. This time she will not find her release until I am buried inside her, but I want her ready.

  Her head twists from side to side and her muscles tighten. “No,” she cries out when I remove my mouth and travel up her body. I bite her flesh. Small nips really, because she tastes so good. She tries to twist away, but I have a good hold on her.

  Nipples stop my journey—pink, soft nipples. My hand engulfs one breast and my mouth takes the other. She likes it. She writhes against me, pushing her breasts up. I like this part of her, too. She’s close to her release again. I will not allow it. I arch my hips and drive deeply into her warmth. This is where I belong. I don’t control her hands this time and they sink into my hair. She pulls the short crop and even that feels good.

  We stare at each other as I take her—neither fast nor slow. She quickens beneath me thrusting her hips up, trying to
control me. It won’t happen. I will control her… always. She will do my bidding. In bed, out of bed… she is mine.

  “Tyboll, please.”

  “Yes, mate, beg for it and if I wish, I will grant you release.”

  I don’t expect her scream or the sharp tear to my ears. I swear she’s ripped the things off. I’m now holding myself above her with one arm supporting me. My hand comes away with blood. Why has she stopped our mating?

  “You stupid bear get off me.”

  I’m so stunned, I roll away. I watch in bewilderment as she stands beside the bed. Her hands go to her hips and she looks at me like I’m the problem. I rub my ear. “Is there a reason for this, woman?” I show her the blood.

  She slaps my hand away. “I will make a list of rules. You will follow them,” she spits out.

  She can’t be serious. “I will follow nothing, woman,” I shout with all the baffled anger I feel.

  She continues as if what I say means nothing. “One…you will not call me woman. Two… you will not call on the power of your bear when we mate. Three…”

  I’ve had enough. “You are my mate and I will do whatever it takes to put you in line.”

  I’m too slow to stop her fist strike to my groin. I curl up on the bed as agony rips through me. She is crazy.

  “Too bad I have no spells handy, so you can use your wiener again someday.”

  The damned woman called the greatest piece of manhood on the planet a wiener and I’m in too much pain to care. Worse yet, she continues her tirade.

  “I was on number three. When I want your services between my legs, I will call you. Stay away from me until I do.”

  The pain is fading. I watch through watery eyes as she puts on her clothes. She tosses the door to the side and storms out without looking back at me. I hold myself, the residue of pain still locked in my brain.

  Crazy woman. What the hell did I do?