Authors: Allie Ritch
Mating Season
Atlantic Bridge
www.atlanticbridge.net
Copyright ©2012 by Allie Ritch
First published in 2012, 2012
Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2008, Mara Lee. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Mating season on the arctic planet of Jensen is a time for eligible men to winter with a potential spouse. In the past, Koll's big size and gruff disposition have scared off many available women. When Shila literally falls into his arms, he hopes maybe this year will be different.
Shila belongs to a race of shifters who are able to transform into enormous frost bears. She loves Koll's large body and sexy growl, and she understands the benefit of having a strong protector. With two male shifters stalking her, she needs Koll to keep her safe. But can he defeat the competition?
This one is for all the people who have ever struggled to fit in.
It was that time of year again. The snow was already thick on the ground, and Koll's village prepared to hole up for the brutal winter. Highlighted by the frosty glow of the moon and stars, the gently rolling land around him was bathed in bluish white from horizon to horizon. To the north, the mountains stretched skyward while the sparse trees stood like naked skeletons. It was easy to get lost in the endless haze, but Koll kept his sled hound, Greyfell, on a steady homeward course.
He also kept a careful lookout. There were many predators on the arctic planet of Jensen. The terrain was rife with giant wolverines, spear-toothed cats, and enormous frost bears that prowled the ice floes. Some said Jensen was the last true wilderness left in the universe, which was what had attracted the immigrants who'd settled on this planet generations ago. Untamed nature was both beautiful and deadly, and this time of year could be especially dangerous as food grew scarce. Winter was the season of endings. And beginnings.
Koll blew out a loud sigh and watched his breath fog and disappear in front of his face. Although he should have known better, he'd thought to make a new beginning for himself this year. This was the season when the single men of the allied villages went courting. More precisely, it was a time for those looking to settle down to hunt for a possible wife.
When a man found a female he wanted, he offered her a ribbon bearing his family color—in Koll's case, a damn unfortunate color. If the woman accepted, she wore it in her hair as a warning to other males and moved in with him for the winter. Come spring, if the pair decided they suited, they married and used the breeding season to start their family. If they were unhappy, then they simply parted ways, free to try with someone else next year.
Koll had seen this mating dance before. Seen it but had never experienced it. No female had ever accepted his ribbon, not from any of the villages nearby. He blamed his size.
From an early age, Koll had grown fast and hadn't stopped until he'd towered over his peers. His childhood awkwardness had been a source of amusement to the village kids, and they'd excluded him from most of their games. Puberty had only added bulk to his tall frame, turning him into a muscled giant.
He wasn't a gentle one, though. Koll knew how to be gentle and never looked for trouble, but he was not an easy man. Having learned to control his strength, he was now a seasoned warrior. Usually he did battle with the elements and the beasts that prowled these lands, but the men on the other side of the mountains had been known to raid his village during lean times.
As a mature male, his size and strength should have been an asset, proof that he could protect and provide for a female. Instead, he frightened most women with his large body, dark looks, and gruff manner. As for those females who weren't put off ... well, men didn't hold a monopoly on lechery. Unfortunately, the women who were attracted to his size, or at least the size of one body part in particular, never seemed interested in more than a night or two.
Koll wanted more. He wasn't the quitting kind—stubborn, his mother would have said—which was why he hadn't given up hope. That's how he found himself here in the dead of night, trekking endlessly through the snow on his way back from the distant village of Idona. Year after year, he ventured farther and farther abroad in the hope of finding a wife. He'd even lined his sled basket with furs to keep her warm and comfortable for the ride back to his home. But his sled was empty of occupants because he'd failed. Again.
"None of them would have suited me anyway,” he groused, trying not to wince at the memory of his recent rejections.
His sled hound twitched an ear in response. Fully in travel mode, Greyfell focused dead ahead and kept his pace steady. Then he did something Koll knew better than to ignore. With an audible breath, Greyfell broke stride to smell the air. His head popped up, his lungs inflated, and his ears swiveled forward as he scanned the terrain.
Koll threw the brake before unsheathing the knife at his belt. He went as still as his hound, letting his gaze slide over his surroundings. The muffled crunch of snow caught his ear just before Greyfell released a soft whine.
Ready for an attack, Koll spun to face the threat and froze in shock. The source of the commotion was closer than he'd expected—close enough that he knew he'd be dead were this a hungry frost bear sneaking up on him. Fortunately, it wasn't a beast he faced. There, limned by moonlight, stood the most breathtaking woman he'd ever seen.
Her hair was so white it was nearly transparent as it drifted down to curl just beneath her cheekbones. Those cheeks were rosy from the cold—a pretty contrast to skin almost as pale as the snowflakes. His first impression was that she was an albino. Then he saw her eyes. They weren't colorless or gray or even the pale blue of a clear winter sky. Instead, they were rich brown, full of depth and life. They were also pleading.
"Please.” Her full lips delivered the word before she swayed forward. She would have collapsed if his reflexes hadn't made him fast enough to catch her.
Mindful of the blade in his hand, Koll wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her up. He received the second shock of the evening when he realized she was tall enough he could tuck her head under his chin. Even through the fur coats they both wore, he felt her full breasts pressing on either side of his sternum instead of landing somewhere near his navel. His groin heated before he got his mind working.
"Please,” she murmured again.
"Are you hurt?” His voice came out even more like a growl than usual.
Trying not to jostle her, he pulled her to the side of the sled. Her head lolled back on the furs as he laid her in the basket and leaned back to look at her. He kept his knife out.
"Answer me, woman. Are you injured?"
"No.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she fought to stay conscious. “Please help. They're stalking me. Can't run ... can't run any farther."
Koll was already studying the frozen landscape, searching for danger. At the front of the sled, Greyfell continued to whine and shift his feet, but he wasn't peering into the darkness anymore. The canine watched the woman closely. Greyfell hadn't been around many females, and her sudden appearance was obviously making the sled hound nervous.
"Hey, calm down.” Koll used his command voice to snap Greyfell out of it. Then he returned his attention to the woman. “How many? What kind of beasts?"
Each predator on this world had different hunting techniques and vulnerabilities. He wanted to know what he was up against.
Her lashes drifted closed again but she answered. “Men. Traveling on two feet."
Anger flared in Koll's gut. Predators were chasing her all right, but these hunted for sport. An attractive female like her made for appealing prey. The bastards must have caught the poor woman outside the safety of her village. She was geared up in warm clothes and snowshoes, and he was relieved to see her garb was still intact and in place. So far, she'd escaped assault. She was worn out, though—obviously at the end of her strength.
"How many?” he repeated.
No answer. He could still see her breath, but she'd finally succumbed to exhaustion.
Koll didn't waste time. He had no doubt he could take out several attackers, but he didn't know how large a gang was after her. There was no sense taking chances. Every protective instinct he had demanded he get her to safety as quickly as possible.
After popping off her snowshoes, he got her tucked securely under the furs before climbing on behind her and pulling up the brake. With a low grunt of sound, he signaled Greyfell to run, and the hound immediately obeyed. They shot forward, heading homeward once more. Koll stayed alert for danger, only stealing occasional glances at the beautiful woman in his sled.
The extra weight slowed their travel. It was closer to dawn than dusk when they finally reached his house. Koll carried the woman inside and laid her on his bed before stripping his gear and seeing to Greyfell. The hound's head reached Koll's chest, giving him a clear view of the animal's large black tongue as he panted. He stripped off Greyfell's protective boots and rubbed him down with a towel before settling the hound in the kennel attached to the house.
Then Koll built a fire before returning his attention to his new guest. When he'd planned to bring a woman here, this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. She was still sound asleep and probably would be for hours. He needed to get her out of those wet clothes, a thought that aroused him and made him feel awkward at the same time.
After what she'd been through, he wanted to tell her that he meant no harm. As much as she stirred his body, her vulnerability moved him and made him want to comfort her. He should have told her she was safe. He should have promised his help immediately when she'd asked. At the time, he'd been so focused on assessing the threat he hadn't thought to offer her reassurance. Hadn't he learned that females needed gentle words?
"Stupid lout,” Koll grumbled to himself.
He wasn't good with words, but he could have said something. No need for poetry.
Lifting one of the extra fur blankets from the foot of the bed, he held it in front of him like a shield as he walked toward the woman. The firelight bathed her like sunrise and brought a rosier hue to her skin. Very carefully, he laid the blanket over her lap, though she was still covered by her leather pants. He propped her up with one arm while he used the other to peel off her wet coat and toss it aside.
One down. That was the easiest part.
Her sweater beneath was damp and clung to her skin. She was not a scrawny creature; she was heavy-boned and lushly curved. Not fat—she was built of surprisingly hard muscle for a woman—but she certainly wasn't dainty. Sturdy was the word that came to his mind.
Pulling the blanket higher, Koll covered her chest with it while he wrestled off her top. He groaned when he brushed his callused hand over the bare skin of her back. She was so damn soft. Soft and smooth and delectable.
His erection punched his fly so hard he winced. With a death grip on the blanket, he kept the covering in place, though what he really wanted was to let it drop. He ground his teeth in determination and protected her modesty as he lowered her torso back onto the bed. Stepping back from temptation, he moved to her feet.
Koll had never paid much attention to a woman's feet before, yet he found himself captivated when he bared hers. They were beautifully shaped, arched in the right place, and just as smooth and pale as the rest of her. And they were big. Although they weren't absurdly so, her feet were definitely very large for a female. He must be going mad because that turned him on even more.
Unable to stop himself, he slid the blanket up her long, endless legs. Of course they probably only seemed lengthy because she was so tall. He was pretty sure she was proportioned longer in the torso, but that didn't matter. There was just so much of her to explore, and every part had fresh heat racing to his cock.
