SpringFever Shifters in Love

by Lia Davis, Milly Taiden, Kerry Adrienne, Vella Day, Andie Devaux

  She stepped over a fallen tree branch at the stream’s bank. The water was only about six feet across, but it ran a couple feet deep in the middle and was surely freezing cold. Filled with run-off from the melting snow higher in the mountains, it would be too frigid to walk through. She grasped her sketchbook and climbed up onto a large, rounded boulder beside the stream. Warmth radiated from the rock, and Amy sat and listened to the water rush by.

  No people. No deadlines. No Darren.

  She could get used to the silence and peace. She stretched out her legs and lay back on the rock to look at the sky doming vibrant blue above her, not a cloud in sight. The forest lay at the periphery of her vision, but the view above the water was unobstructed and bright blue with a haze of yellow sunshine.

  A branch snapped and Amy sat up quickly. She scanned the area. Nothing. Maybe a limb falling, or a squirrel scampering by.

  She watched the water run by in the creek. Guess I should get busy.

  After opening her sketchbook and making a few gesture lines of the ridge of pines, the hair stood along the back of her neck. She glanced up from her drawing. Creepy.

  Someone or something was watching her. Who or what, she didn’t know, but she felt it. A low growl sounded nearby, almost lost on the trickling water.

  Closing the sketchbook and palming the pencil, Amy slid down the rock to the ground. Dread coiled in her stomach, and she searched for the source of the sound. Then she heard it. A huffing, semi-snarl from across the stream.

  She gasped.

  A mountain lion crouched and drank; it’s pink tongue lapping at the cold water. It looked up, and Amy swore she saw it smile. Its golden eyes seared into her, and she backed away, willing her feet to run, but stumbling and landing on her backside. The big cat paced, huffing, looking for a place to cross or leap over the stream.

  Could it make it? Probably…no, definitely. Paralyzed from fear and adrenaline, Amy stared, her mouth gone dry. Her heart thudded and she tried again to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. The cat snarled and hissed, its whiskers twitching as it paced. When it crouched to jump, Amy closed her eyes and covered her head.

  The most deafening roar sounded, followed by a splash that sent a shower of water over her. She peeked.

  Wrestling with the mountain lion was a large brown bear. Holy shit! The largest bear she’d ever seen, in zoos or on TV. There aren’t grizzlies in New York. Right? The bear stood on its hind legs and growled again as it pawed at a fresh gash on its face. The brown fur there was overrun with wet red. The lion crouched and hissed.

  Amy didn’t wait to see what would happen next. She dropped her sketchbook and ran.

  ***

  Griff relaxed, letting his large bear body morph back into man. Claws, fur, ears—all dissolved away and were replaced by his human form. He grimaced at the stinging on his cheek. The lion had gotten in a good lick before retreating.

  What the hell had Amy been thinking, coming out into the woods all alone? Hadn’t he been clear that she was NOT to be wandering? Damn it! He should’ve known she wouldn’t listen to his warnings. Stubborn female—oblivious to the danger outside.

  He grabbed his clothing off the ground and dressed. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been around? The mountain lion would’ve killed her, probably. The Sen Pal was definitely back in the mountains, and the lion was probably a Scout. The rest of the pride would be following soon.

  Griff slipped his shoes on. The last thing he needed to deal with was an obstinate woman. He’d walked up the trail toward the cabin to check on her, and as soon as he picked up the scent of the mountain lion, he’d shifted and ran, knowing the cat would cause trouble. He’d scared it off, but it wouldn’t stay away long—especially if it was smart enough to sense that Amy was Griff’s mate.

  He winced as the stinging pain pulsed. Blood dribbled onto his shirt.

  “Dammit!” He held his arm to the cut to stave the bleeding. He wanted to check on Amy, but he also needed to clean the wound. She might think he was a freak if he showed up on her doorstep bleeding.

  Fuck it. He needed to make sure she was safe.

  He steadied himself against a tree trunk. Too many conflicting emotions. He had to go to his mate—he needed to make sure she was okay. And maybe fuss at her for being out in the woods all alone. But he didn’t want to worry her. I’ll make up a reason. He climbed the hill toward the cabin. Hope she’s home. The way she’d run away, she might have kept going. When he got to the yard, he saw her ratty car was still parked outside.

  “Good,” he mumbled. He wiped at his cheek again. Still bleeding.

  He stepped onto the porch and knocked. A tiny strand of fear coiled in his stomach. Surely she’d made it back okay.

  The door creaked open a sliver. “Who… Griff!” Amy opened it. “What happened to you? Oh my god, you’re bleeding.”

  “I, uh, can I sit down?” Griff pressed his arm over the wound. “I fell in the woods and cut my cheek. I was, umm, gathering firewood. Closer to your place than mine.”

  “Come on in.” Amy tugged him by the arm, led him to the kitchen table, and pulled out a chair. “Sit. I’ll get something to clean that up with.”

  “Thank you.” He dropped into the chair, waiting on his bear to start healing the wound. The fight with the lion had tired him out, and now that the adrenaline had left his body, he was getting sleepy. He hoped Amy believed his story. No way he could explain what really happened. Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  Amy reappeared from the bathroom with a wet rag. “Let me see it,” she said.

  He moved his arm away and squinted. How would she react? His anger at her had cooled a bit once he saw she was okay. Still, she needed to listen to him. The woods were full of danger—especially now.

  “That’s a pretty big cut.” She frowned. “What did you land on, a machete?”

  He shook his head. “A stick.”

  “It’s long, but I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches.” She pressed the warm rag against his cheek and rested her other hand on his shoulder. “But it needs treatment.”

  Warmth spread through his body. She was so close, he could pull her to him with little effort, wrap his arms around her and tug…

  “You’re lucky. You could’ve poked out your eye.” She dabbed at the cut.

  God, she smells good. Mate.

  Her leg brushed against his and his cock stirred. Not now, dammit!

  She nudged the wound with the edge of the cloth.

  “Ouch!” Pain killed the mood and he leaned away from her.

  “Hold still. There’s dirt in the cut and I need to clean it well or you’re going to get a nasty infection.”

  She peered closer at the wound, and he closed his eyes as her breath warmed his face.

  Mate. His heart thundered. He needed her. Bone deep, soul deep, he needed her. He didn’t want to wait.

  Dammit.

  “What’s wrong?” Amy raised her eyebrows. “Sorry it hurts, but I need to make sure it’s clean before I put a bandage on it.” She smiled. “Suck it up.”

  “I’m okay.” He said it with his mouth but not his heart. He was most definitely not okay. I won’t be okay till she’s mine.

  “Hold this on your cheek. I’ll be right back.” She handed him a clean kitchen towel. “I need to get the first aid kit.”

  He nodded and held the towel to his face. He watched her walk down the hall, her blond hair almost reaching her backside. Gorgeous ass. His heart thudded. If he didn’t stop thinking about her like that, he’d lose control. He’d heard of it happening before, but not to anyone he knew. None of his friends had human mates.

  She didn’t even realize it, but the woman was driving him crazy, whether he liked it or not. Why had no human male claimed her yet? Good thing, otherwise Griff would have to rip his head off.

  “Here it is.” She came out of the bathroom with a small box. “I don’t have any huge ba
ndages, but I think I can fix you up.”

  I bet you can.

  “Put the towel down.” She examined his cheek. “Good, the bleeding’s stopped.”

  She didn’t know that he’d heal quickly, and by tomorrow, the cut would look like barely a scratch.

  “Look up a little so I can reach it all.” She applied antibiotic cream then a gauze pad.

  Griff tried not to stare at the rise and fall of her breasts, which were positioned right in front of his face. He squeezed his thighs together. Breasts near my face. His breath quickened.

  “Sit up a little.” She held the gauze with one hand and the tape in another. “I don’t have enough hands to do this. Hold the gauze for me.”

  He put his fingers up to hold it. He looked at her, checking out her thin nose and high cheekbones and perfect, full lips. His gaze caught hers and she looked away. She ripped off pieces of tape and applied them to the gauze.

  “You won’t believe what I saw in the woods today,” she said.

  “What?” For the first time, he noticed her hands shook. The incident had scared her. Good.

  “A mountain lion.” She pressed down the last piece of tape and stepped back. “And a bear. There, that should do it.”

  “Really?” He swallowed hard. Did she know? Not possible. “Where?”

  “I was sketching down near the creek.” She closed up the box and set it on the counter. “First, there was a mountain lion—scared the hell out of me. Then, out of nowhere, a giant bear rushed out and started fighting with it. The lion swiped the bear across the face…”

  “And then? What did you do?” Griff balled his hands into fists. He’d forgotten how upset he was at Amy for venturing out into the woods. But right now, he had to protect his identity, for her sake as much as his.

  She brushed her hair from her face. “I can’t believe they were so near. It really scared me and I ran all the way back here.”

  “I told you the woods were dangerous and that you shouldn’t be out there alone,”

  Griff said, trying to tamp down a growl.

  “I’m okay now.” Amy shrugged. “It was day time and I wasn’t even far away. Besides, you aren’t in charge of my safety.”

  Griff breathed in her scent and it permeated him to the core. He was responsible for her; she simply didn’t know it yet. She needed to do what he told her. “This is my property.”

  “Which I’m renting. And what were you doing out there wandering around? Spying on me? Why weren’t you looking for firewood near your own house?”

  If you only knew. He huffed. The woman could be infuriating. He fiddled with the bandage. “I’ve cleared most of the dead wood around my place, so I needed to look elsewhere. Thanks for patching me up.”

  She leaned against the counter. “What were you doing out there in the woods by yourself? Isn’t that dangerous? I’d think that bear, or the lion, could’ve taken you down.”

  “I’m a park ranger. It’s what I do. I range.”

  “Fine.” She flipped her hair over her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She studied him a minute. “Want me to drive you home? You probably shouldn’t be walking around with that nasty cut.”

  He leaned forward and looked her directly in the eye. God, his mate was gorgeous. Made for me. “I’m feeling better now.” Under the bandage, the cut had started its rapid healing, and he longed to scratch it. “I can walk. But I need to sit a few more minutes and maybe get a glass of water.”

  “You got it.” She filled a glass from the tap and set it in front of him. “Better hurry before it gets dark outside.”

  He drained the glass in gulps, trying to cool the heat his mate had ignited in him. One way or another, he had to tell her the truth eventually.

  But not today.

  Chapter Four

  The Oaken Barrel was tucked between the Laundromat and the corner grocer, its entrance positioned two steps up from street level. Amy steeled herself before entering. She’d worn her hair down and didn’t dress up. Intentionally. Jeans, a pale blue button-up shirt, and cowboy boots. Nothing fancy. She didn’t want Griff to get the wrong impression.

  Why had she agreed to meet him? She hadn’t rented the cabin to be social—quite the opposite. It’s supposed to be me time. But she’d told him she would come, and a tiny part of her was looking forward to seeing him. Not for any reason other than to see if the nasty cut on his face looked any better. Right.

  She’d stay a little while then head home—the painting she’d been working on wouldn’t finish itself. She climbed the steps and pulled the heavy door open.

  Wonder if he’s here yet.

  A funky music vibe hit her as soon as she stepped into the darkened room, and she spotted a handful of patrons sitting on stools or standing around the room. An empty dance floor was positioned in the center of the bar, its lights flashing and thumping in time with the music. Thank goodness, the bar appeared to be non-smoking.

  Where is everyone? No Griff in sight.

  Tables spread around the periphery of the room. The bar itself, sitting against the far wall, was a massive construct of dark wood and mirrors, and a raised lounge with pool tables and darts lay off the left side of the room. The Oaken Barrel was pretty much like any other bar she’d seen in the US.

  Dark, noisy, and more than a little lonely feeling.

  She turned to leave, but a firm hand grasped her shoulder. She turned to see a bright smile illuminating a pale, effeminate, and striking face. Not Griff.

  “Hello there, beautiful,” the man said. “I’ve not seen you here before.”

  Why would such a gorgeous man be talking to her? Eyes so light, they had to be blue, and a shaggy blond head of hair pulled into a low ponytail. She stammered, “First time I’ve been here.” Maybe he was a bouncer. Kinda thin.

  He took her by the elbow and led her. “Then I need to welcome you properly.” He winked. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  Amy looked around for Griff. She wasn’t in the habit of accepting drinks from strangers. Not even model types like this man. “I—”

  “Make my night and let me buy you your first drink in Oakwood.” His firm grip increased on her elbow, and he guided her forward. “Please.”

  It’s not that big of a deal. She nodded. “Okay. I guess that’s all right.” She’d watch to make sure he didn’t slip anything into her drink, but the last thing she wanted to do was piss off someone in the small town. And she wanted a drink.

  They maneuvered around the empty dance floor to the bar.

  Griff would arrive soon, anyway. Yes, she admitted. She was looking forward to seeing him. How had he gotten under her skin in only a few days? No, she consoled herself. He’s a familiar face, nothing more. Maybe a friend soon.

  A ballad played over the bar speakers, and the man pulled out a bar stool for her. “Sit,” he said. “I’m Evers. What’s your name, beautiful?” He waited for her to sit, then pulled up a stool beside her. A gentleman.

  He probably calls every girl beautiful. “My name’s Amy.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He motioned for the bartender, his gesture as fluid as a ballet dancer. “What do you want to drink, Amy?” His eyes peered at her with an almost feral intensity, like he was scrutinizing her every gesture, maybe even her thoughts. Unnerving.

  Live a little. Stop being so anxious. “I’ll have a rum and soda. Thank you.”

  “You heard the lady. I’ll have your best craft beer,” Evers directed the bartender. “And a glass of ice water.”

  The bartender, a youngish guy of maybe twenty, set napkins in front of them. “You got it. Right back.”

  Evers turned to her and flashed his smile again. “So what brings you to Oakwood? Not a lot here besides the national forest, and no offense, but you don’t look like the mountain climbing type.”

  She studied Evers, his piercing eyes as hard and shiny as polished rocks. His genteel conversation didn’t really jibe with hi
s stern look. He was gorgeous, but felt insincere. Gentlemanly, but fake.

  “I…came here to think. Get away from the fast lane for a while.” She fidgeted with her napkin. “And no, I’m not planning to climb any mountains.” She bit back the giggle that bubbled up in her nervousness. Where was Griff?

  A gaggle of chatty girls burst into the bar, and Amy turned to see the distraction.

  “Believe it or not, this place will be full of people by eleven,” Evers said, swiveling on his stool. “I don’t think there’s anything else to do or anywhere else to be on a Friday night. Not around here.”

  The bartender set the drinks in front of them, then poured the ice water. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

  “Perfect.” Evers took a gulp of his beer. “How long are you staying in town? A week? Two?”

  Alarm bells sounded in her brain. Should she be telling a complete stranger her plans? That she was renting a cabin alone? She sipped her drink to buy time to think. He seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t really ever tell, could you? “I’m not sure how long,” she lied. “Depends on how quickly I recover my sanity. I lost my job, and now I’m trying to figure out what direction I want to go in. You know, what I want to do with my life.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about the job. I hope Oakwood proves to be relaxing for you.” He smiled. “Some people come here and never leave. Not me, though. I’m just visiting.”

  Amy couldn’t help but stare at his perfectly white teeth. His sharp pointy teeth. She shook her head to clear the image. Having such an imagination was sometimes a curse, but the vibe Evers was giving off wasn’t completely a good one. Still, being with him kept her from being alone at the bar. She looked around for Griff. The bar was filling up fast, but she didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Waiting on someone?” Evers took another swig of beer.

  “Yeah, my landlord was going to meet me here to introduce me to some of Oakwood’s residents. He’s a park ranger. Maybe you know him? Griff Martin?”