Once Upon a Shifter (91 page)

This singular scent had been so powerful, so overwhelming that he hadn’t been able to resist stepping out of his path and, abandoning his mission altogether, sneaking in behind a bookcase to see where it came from. It had beckoned him, dragged him forward alongside the neat rows of shelved books towards the reading lounge, where he had pulled out a lengthy tome, peeking through the narrow opening among the book spines to get a look at the source of this magical fragrance.

He had spotted her, sitting alone at a desk, huddled over a book, bathed in the pool of light coming from a reading lamp set in front of her. She had seemed completely engrossed in the thick book that had been splayed open before her, her forehead resting in one of her palms, while the fingers of her other hand had been set on the page corner, impatient to turn it over. His nose had not deceived him and the young woman sitting in front of him had appeared like a dream, the dark waves of her hair draping the soft, smooth features of her face, gleaming under the golden light. Her long, black eyelashes had shielded her eyes and fluttered with excitement as she read along, and he had longed for her to raise her gaze and meet his. The girl’s luscious lips had been partly open, like those of a child in awe, and he had known instantly that he needed to know her.

He had stayed hidden in the dark corners of the library, intently listening to the rustling sound of her clothes as she had shifted in her seat, to the pages flipping one after the other, to her breath getting caught with the tension in the her book unfolding. Waiting a few hours for the library to close had felt like nothing to him. After all, he had spent his whole life waiting, and being the excellent hunter he was, he had already started tasting the pleasure of getting closer to his aim. The moment she had reluctantly stood up to leave and carefully shelved her book in the historical romance section, he had leapt forward and in a few long strides, had found himself in front of the tucked in volume, pulling it out and bringing it to his nose to hold on to her scent for a few more moments before it had evaporated from the dusty, yellowed pages of the book.

He had had the idea then. He had started reading the book, trying to find what had appealed to her, and then had asked the librarian to recommend the closest titles that matched the premise. If she was a passionate reader, they already had something in common and he had found the perfect reason to talk to her.

Even when the man in him had been only fascinated by the beauty and serenity of the mysterious woman he had spotted, there had been no doubts in his bear when it came to her inner value. The animal instinct was much stronger than that of a man, the intuition, the primal knowledge and recognition of a mate. His mate. On his lonely, furtive walks along back alleys and shadowy archways, tracing Keyla’s steps and seeing her safely home after school or the library, Troy’s bear had grown more and more certain that he would never feel the same pull towards any other woman or bear. His fate had finally caught up with him.

Presently, Troy became distracted, agitated. Something wasn’t right. He looked up at his mother and his soon-to-be mother-in-law and saw they had already closed their eyes in preparation for the ritual. The alpha of the Blackstones, Corin’s father, had already settled in the makeshift wooden throne at the base of the arch, his massive chest bare underneath the grizzly bear skin he was wearing. In his current attire, he could safely pass for a bear altogether. The people on the benches were finally quieting down and Aria and Elaine began the chant.

Two girls dressed in emerald robes came forward with their hands outstretched towards the two mothers. One of them placed a large lacquered wooden bowl with a pestle at their feet, while the other arranged the contents of a basket on a piece of white linen next to it. Glass vials and silk pouches held an assortment of wild herbs, dry berries and tree barks and as Aria kneeled down to empty them into the bowl, a cloud of potent scent rose from its surface. The smell intensified when she started vigorously stirring and crushing the ingredients with the wooden pestle. All the while the mothers kept humming a rhythmic chant that was complementing the effects of the fragrant herbs and tickled the senses of everyone present, especially of those closest to the arch.

The bowl now held a dark maroon powder and Elaine joined Aria on her knees, bringing out a vial of clear liquid from a hidden pocket in her skirts. She poured it into the mixture and took over the pestle to stir it in until the ritual dye was finally complete and they could proceed with the wedding. The two mothers rose to their feet, Aria holding the bowl, while Elaine dipped her finger into the thick paint and brought it out to Corin’s forehead. The crowd rose and joined in the chanting, while Elaine traced the ancient binding symbols over her daughter-in-law’s tender skin.

The anxious feeling in Troy’s chest was getting worse. His temples throbbed and his heartbeat felt as if it came from the depths of his throat. He had been thinking about Keyla, about the first time he had seen her, about her scent… That was it! Her scent!

He could feel it. Keyla was here. But how was it possible? He hadn’t seen her in weeks and almost no one from town ever came to the camp. What would she be doing here? Had she found out about the wedding? He had thought he had subconsciously called forward a memory so intense that he had confused it with reality, but he was becoming more and more certain that this had nothing to do with the memory at all. Mostly because mixed with her natural clean and fresh scent was the unmistakable, poignant smell of fear he had been trained only too well to recognize.

He flashed a look at his bride kneeling next to him and beyond the outline of the fierce bear’s jaw with its razor-sharp, almost gleaming white teeth that hung over her milky forehead, beyond the rough brown bristles that sheltered her rosy cheeks, he saw her beautiful, silky lips stretch into a slight, contented smile.

Suddenly, a piercing scream reverberated through the air and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. Aria flinched and instinctively lifted her hands, losing control of the bowl of paint, which flew forward. As if in slow motion, the thick liquid coursed through the air, a million drops of blood-red paint hovered, suspended midair, catching the sunrays and reflecting them brilliantly around until the spray finally splashed forcefully all over Corin’s white dress and face. She gasped, shocked, uncomprehending. Nothing seemed to be happening for the next few moments. Everyone held their breath as Corin raised a finger to her cheek and swiped it over it. When she brought it out before her eyes, her chilling cry joined the scream that kept coming in waves from the distance.

Chapter 6

Keyla

Keyla’s helpless kicking in the air was accomplishing nothing in the firm grip of the man who carried her through a door and inside one of the cottages. The adrenaline had filled her head and her ears buzzed with fear. She tried to dig her nails through the thick, furry cape the man was wearing, but they only met with a rough surface that felt like dry animal skin. Her temples bathed in sweat and she was barely registering the interior of the small wooden cabin. While her hands clutched the squashed cake box in a twisted attempt to keep it safe, her mind worked frantically to find a way out of the gloomy room and the iron clasp of the giant man.

The man was just about to throw her down on a shabby sofa, when he suddenly turned towards the wide-open door and sniffed the air like a police dog. Keyla seized the opportunity and dug her teeth into his wrist, clenching them over his rough skin. To her astonishment, he shook her off with a single shudder, as if he hadn’t felt more than a mosquito bite, and continued to inhale loudly, as if he could see something beyond the walls of the cabin. Or, more like smell something.

Keyla shifted her weight on his shoulder, so that she could turn to look in the direction of the door and just as she did so, a ruffled head appeared through the opening. At first she thought it was Troy, for the resemblance was uncanny, but in the short moment she had to examine the newcomer, she realized he was younger and his tousled hair and heavy stubble were lighter than Troy’s. His eyes were different, too. They were just as light as Troy’s but unlike his icy blue irises, the stranger, who could only be his brother or cousin, had almost yellow, honey-brown ones.

“What’s going on here?” the man at the door asked and made a cautious step forward. “Who is that?”

His eyes suddenly grew large with recognition and Keyla realized he must know who she was. She started twisting once more in the hands of the giant that held her and whimpered when his fingers dug harder into her flesh.

“Damien, let her go,” the newcomer said in a stern voice and strode forward, taking hold of Keyla’s ankle, which dangled helplessly in the air. “Do you even know who that is?”

“Of course I know,” Keyla’s captor growled and his massive chest and shoulders vibrated under her stomach as if his voice came from deep inside him and rattled his body as he spoke. “Did you think I’d let that charade go on out there? To hell with peace. We don’t need your stinky kind and I surely don’t need your brother’s slimy hands on my girl.”

He spat on the floor in the other man’s feet and Keyla’s body shook with his exertion. Then he started walking backwards and away from Troy’s brother, the faint roar within his chest rising louder and more palpable.

What happened next, felt like a dream to Keyla. When she thought about it later, she couldn’t quite place the details as it all transpired within seconds, and yet it felt stretched out in time as the terror had taken complete hold of her. All of a sudden she was flying towards the sofa and despite the soft landing, she heard her bones and joints crackle and pop upon the contact. She found herself in a messy heap over some folded blankets, her face buried in the soft buttery icing of the cake. When she fell, she didn’t realize the box had splayed open in the air and the collision with the creamy surface came as a shock.

She slowly lifted her head and scrambled to get to a sitting position, her eyes closed and sealed over with cake glazing. She tentatively licked the sugary frosting from around her lips and just as she reached to uncover her eyes, she heard a noise that made her freeze in her spot, her strained breath growing still. It echoed like thunder, only one that had crashed right there, inside the small room. Then there was a sharp snap as if lightning struck through the hollow, dry trunk of a monstrous tree. Keyla cringed back, shivering all over and fighting the violent wave of nausea that overtook her.

When she heard the loud roar, which filled the constricted space, she wiped at her eyes with her forearm, smearing icing all over her forehead and hair, but finally making way for her eyelids to crack open. She wished she had stayed in the dark for she could hardly trust her own eyes as she took in what was happening around her. She struggled to make sense of the scene that was playing out in front of her.

The two men had disappeared and in their place two enormous bears were standing on their hind legs, entangled in a deadly embrace, their claws cutting through the other’s skin, splashing blood all about the floor and walls. She couldn’t even bring herself to look around for the bodies of the two men who had stood there just moments ago and had surely fallen victims to the lethal beasts. The heavy, metallic smell of the blood and the horrific sounds were overwhelming and Keyla couldn’t control herself. She began screaming. Her head was empty of logic and precaution. The sheer terror had seized every fiber in her body and she shut her eyes, awaiting the deadly strike of a bear’s huge paw. She felt paralyzed.

The shrieks were still coming out of her, strong, unhinged, desperate, when the door flew open once again and a third bear stormed in running at a speed Keyla had only heard about in the stories of the town’s hunters. Ignoring the other two fighting bears, the third one headed straight for her and the petrifying fear was more than she could endure. The last thing she thought before she slumped unconscious over the heap of blankets was as surreal as the fantastical action that was taking place in the room. She thought she had never imagined a bear’s eyes could be so blue.

Chapter 7

Keyla

Keyla felt a thumping pain at the back of her head and shifted it slightly, afraid to make a more drastic move. Her entire body felt fluid, senseless, as if she had been drugged or beaten to death until she had lost all sensitivity, but she was only slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. She gently opened her eyes to see her forehead resting on the steering wheel of her battered Toyota, her fingers clasped around its worn leather, numb and covered in something white and sticky. She couldn’t remember driving, but she must have, if she was slouched over the wheel with her feet still set on the pedals.

Slowly, as if she was moving underwater, she reached out her hand towards the ignition and touched the key that was safely tucked in its lock. The engine was sleeping. Her first thought was that she had had an accident and had managed to drive herself into a fence or a boulder. Only that could explain the pinching pain in her back and chest and her throbbing temples. Then, before she even lifted her head to look around, the details of the past few hours started crystalizing in her mind.

No, she still couldn’t believe she had been trapped inside a cabin with three ravenous bears, who had most likely killed and torn to pieces the man who had captured her and the other one who had wanted to rescue her. Why was she alive then? She remembered the third bear running fast towards her and then it all became fuzzy. Still, she could picture herself crawling through the grass towards her car (or was she being dragged?), while chilling screams and growls were tearing the air behind her. She hadn’t stopped to look back, almost obsessed with the idea of reaching the car door and driving off. Even if that wasn’t a real memory, but simply an elaborate guess, she could see no other explanation for what went on in the campsite.