Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3)

The Wild Hunt Legacy: Book 3

Erotic paranormal ménage romance

There’s a reason why Cherise Sinclair is on my auto-buy list: she writes fantastic erotic romances with great stories and wonderful characters.

~ The Romance Reviews

She risked her life to save a human child. Pain was her reward.

All her life, Emma longed for someone to love. Instead, disaster sees the brand-new bard banished from her people for long lonely years. Injured saving a child, the werebear has to steal food from humans, breaking shifter Law. The territory’s Cosantir and his lethal grizzly warrior catch her in the act. To her surprise, she’s healed and welcomed. Obviously, they don’t know her past. But oh, she can’t resist being around other shifters—especially the captivatingly powerful warrior. Maybe she can stay…just a little while.

As a grizzly warrior, Ben is ordered to house the pretty werebear until she heals. His littermate abandoned him, his home is empty, and he’s been alone for a long time. Intelligent and sweet and lushly curved, Emma is a delight…even if she is oddly reticent about her past. Although having sworn off females, he’s sorely tempted by this one. Damned if he doesn’t want to keep her, secrets or not.

Females were trouble. Years past, one split Ryder from his littermate. Now the panther shifter is returning to Ben, bringing his cub with him, a four-year-old he stole from the abusive female. To Ryder’s annoyance, his brother is sheltering a wounded bear. A
female
. Even worse, she’s beautiful and gentle and loving—damned if he’s going to fall for that act again. But when the dark of the moon arrives and death reigns supreme, he’ll discover that not all females are alike.

In a world filled with hellhounds and pixies, can three lonely shifters and one silent cub create a new family together?

Whether you are interested in erotic BDSM, sci-fi or paranormal, Cherise Sinclair is always my top pick and number one suggestion.

~ You Gotta Read Reviews

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The Wild Hunt Legacy 3

Cherise Sinclair

VanScoy Publishing Group

Copyright © 2016 Cherise Sinclair

Copyright © January 2016 by Cherise Sinclair

Nook Edition

ISBN: 978-0-9861195-7-6

Published by VanScoy Publishing Group

Cover Artist: Hot Damn Designs

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, business establishments, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this eBook only. No part of this eBook may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

Disclaimer: Please do not try any new sexual practice, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained in this book.

With grateful thanks to my wonderful critique partners, Monette Michaels, Fiona Archer, and Bianca Sommerland.

A huge thank you to Marian Shulman who took the time to beta read the rough version and weeded out numerous inconsistencies. *mwah!*

A big shout-out to Ekatarina Sayanova and her team at Red Quill Editing who tucked me into their tight schedule and did a marvelous job.

To my News & Discussion crew on Facebook (AKA the Shadowkittens), I’m sending big squishy hugs. The “inspiring” pictures and suggestions along with your enthusiasm and generosity have kept me returning to the keyboard day after day.

‡

Three years before

Pine Knoll, Mt. Hood Territory – full moon

W
hat if no
one wants to mate with me?
Arms wrapped around herself, Emma Cavanaugh stood on the sidewalk and watched shifters stream into the three-story house for the full moon Gathering. She’d be joining them since she was an adult now and ready for her first Gathering.

Finally.
Most females went into their first heat before twenty-two, and she’d worried something was wrong with her, although bear shifters tended to be delayed. No matter. She was here now. Her need had driven her right to the door of the Gathering.

C’mon, bear. Time to move.

Feeling as if she walked on brittle ice, she made it almost to the door. Then a group of shifters passed her.

Males
.

Their heady scent raised tingles across her skin. She froze. The masculine voices vibrated all the way to her core. How amazing was that? Would any of those males want her?

Worry flattened her bubbly excitement. What if they didn’t? What if she stood against the wall all night, alone and unwanted like at the dance she’d sneaked out to attend when she was thirteen?

As she tried to get her feet to move, blonde CeeCee and her giggly friend, Marnie, shoved her to one side.

“Way to block the trail, big griz,” Marnie said, deliberately loud.

“It’s because her hips take up the entire sidewalk,” CeeCee said. “Lovely clothes, Emma, just like my grandmum would wear.”

Like swipes from sharp claws, their words hurt.

As her mother had taught, Emma bit back what she wanted to say. Sure, she was a bear shifter, larger than wolf and panther females, but she wasn’t
that
big, and she certainly wasn’t a
grizzly
.

As they walked away, she made a mental note to throw away the flowery skirt and loose blouse. She tried to shrug off the feeling of being of being hated. After the years at the Pine Knoll School, she should be accustomed to insults from her age mates. No one had wanted to be friends with Emma, even if her mother had permitted it.

Priscilla Cavanaugh had been self-centered, obsessed with power and status, and possessed no love for anyone, even her daughter. Every Daonain in the territory had hated Priscilla and had extended their dislike to her daughter, Emma. Her mother had died two months ago, but the animosity toward the Cavanaugh name seemed unending.

Maybe someone more vivacious and charming could have changed their minds. Emma’d hoped becoming a bard would lend her some confidence or persuasiveness. Even a bit of courage wouldn’t have gone unappreciated. But no. Apparently, the talent to sing and entertain an audience didn’t translate into day-to-day eloquence. Even worse, no one in town wanted to hear her sing. Emma’s shoulders drooped. Maybe this evening would be different. Because, after mating, people regarded each other differently. Didn’t they? Would a male still be mean after he’d…been…with her? It was time to shake out her fur and venture out of her cave. Maybe tonight she could make some friends.

I can do this.

Hope rising in her heart, she walked up the steps and inside. As with many shifter homes, the decor was traditional—dark hardwood floors and cream-colored walls with mahogany trim and crown molding. The downstairs rooms had been opened up, so the living room flowed into a sitting room on the left, the dining area and kitchen on the right. Since shifters mated in human form, territories maintained comfortable housing for the full moon Gatherings.

Everywhere she looked, females held court. CeeCee sat on a leather couch with five males striving to impress her. Marnie stood near the riverstone fireplace with her own cluster of males.

That the Daonain birthed more males than females had been merely an interesting fact until now. Enveloped by the overwhelming masculine scents and sounds, her body flared to life and into heat. She was panting as if she’d galloped up a mountain. And oh, Goddess, the
need
.

She took a step forward and stopped.

Near the door stood the Cosantir, the guardian and leader of the Mt. Hood Territory. As always, when Cedrick saw her, his eyes chilled. Because of her mother. As one of the God’s avatars, he acted for the good of the clan. Her mother had acted only for the good of herself, so they’d hated each other. Emma gave him a wide berth and moved farther into the room.

A brown-haired male, lust reddening his normally pale face, stepped into her path. He raised his eyebrows. “Hey, it’s Emma. Come to slum with the rest of the town?”

Despite his offensive tone, Emma still felt a tingle down her spine.

Another male moved closer. His broad shoulders blocked out the light behind him. “It’s Emma, isn’t it? You look very pretty tonight.” This voice was wonderfully deep and resonant, and the interest in it sent arousal streaming through her.

As the song of need humming in her ears grew louder, she managed to focus her eyes.
Gawain.

The male was quite a bit older. He’d made a knife for the bard master. His wonderful eyes were the clear blue of a summer sky—and he
wanted
her.

She shivered with the wonder of it.

*

Emma had no
idea how much time had passed, but the night was well advanced. Standing at the drink table, she tried to gather her senses.

She’d been with several males and had enjoyed mating, if enjoyed could be the word for something so primal and out of control. Some of the males had been rough, and she hadn’t known how to slow them down—or how to slow herself, for that matter.

She smiled. Thank the Mother Gawain had been patient. Gentle. He’d led her to the room, removed her clothes, and stroked each inch of exposed skin until her entire body shimmered with desire. Kissing, nibbling, licking.