The Bear's Arranged Mate: A Bear Shifter Romance Novel (7 page)

Sarah gasped.
Thank goodness I decided to bring my mother’s painting here
, she thought, and realized how selfish that thought was. “By these Bloodweres?”

“By the outcasts, yes. We thought them dead, but it is possible remnant packs of them still wander the wilds. They would never be accepted by anyone in the great tribes, and will probably live on the fringes of our territory. But nevertheless, they appear to be growing in strength.”

Connor looked over the documents that the envoy had brought. “My father is nothing if not prudent,” he said to Sarah, “if he was worried about this, then there must be some tangible threat. What does my beloved father want
us
to do about it?”

The envoy hesitated. “The Bloodweres have been outcast for centuries. It is your father’s belief that this latest attack on hallowed ground is a way of signaling their presence. Your father believes it is time for them to come home. He wants you, both of you, as the leaders of your houses, to try and negotiate with them.”

Connor struggled with a decision for a moment, and Sarah could see the gears grinding in his brain – unlike his father, he was a perfect diplomat. Fair, but uncompromising. He clearly understood the need for peace. But the Bloodweres were an unpredictable force, something to be reckoned with. It wasn’t something they could just ignore.

After a pause, he placed both palms flat on the table and seemed to have reached a resolution. “Very well.
I
will depart tomorrow, and attempt to arrange a meeting with their leader,” he said.

“It must be both of you,” the envoy said, indicating Sarah.

“Out of the question,” he fumed, and Sarah saw his eyes flash dangerously.

“The Bloodweres will only negotiate with
both
heads of the family – if your father is correct, it is the only way to persuade them. You have unified the houses; therefore you must act as one.”

Connor was about to raise his voice again when Sarah spoke up in a soothing and tempered tone that seemed to lull everyone in the room. They knew she wasn’t just a figurehead – more often than not, the affairs of state ran through her, and her eidetic recollection of history and facts was incalculably valuable. Everyone turned in deference toward her.

“My love,” she said, “it is as the envoy said. It would show weakness – or worse, disrespect – for only one of us to show up. I will accompany you.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Connor shook his head, “we don’t know anything about them.”

“We know enough,” she replied, “we must show strength.”

“What about Cora?” he said.             

Sarah stopped and fumbled for a moment, but long enough for Connor to see her hesitation. “We’ll all go,” she said, “she will be safer with us, than if we leave her here. I don’t trust these Bloodweres, but I don’t trust your father, either.”

The envoy seemed shocked by something so blasphemous, especially against his master, but Sarah eyed him squarely as if to remind him that he was on
her
territory now.

“You don’t think he’d do anything, do you?” Connor said, but the slowness of his speech indicated he wasn’t sure himself.

“I don’t know,” Sarah admitted, “but I want Cora with me. And I’m not letting you go alone. I leave you alone for two minutes without supervision, you’d tear this poor man to shreds and feed him to the dogs.” There was supposed to be a lingering humor and irony in her voice, but the envoy apparently didn’t get it and shrank back, visibly offended again, but also freshly terrified of this tall and graceful woman who had shown her teeth on more than one occasion.

“Then it is settled,” the envoy said after another pause. “We leave tomorrow.”

It was agreed that Connor, Sarah, and the others in their troupe including, with her recommendation, an armed party to protect them, would meet at the nearest village outside the razed chalet. The borderlands between the Clawgrove and the Greyback territories lay there, in a vast wilderness. It was a perfect place to roam free and wild as a bear, but it was also an ideal habitat for outcasts if, as Patrick, Connor’s father, presumed, the Bloodweres were hiding.

On the long train ride there, Sarah went over all the books she could find on the Bloodwere’s mythology and the legends leading up to their exile. Across from her, Connor held Cora in his arms and played another game of peekaboo. The small child giggled in delight again, her bright eyes flashing.

“I think this cub is getting bigger!” he announced, raising her up.

Cora squealed and Sarah smiled across the table. Connor had become a good husband, but he made a good father too, something she was secretly glad and grateful for. She could still remember their first night of lovemaking in the ancient woods, the passion and the fire of it, both of their bodies mingled in a sweaty contortion of limbs and embraces.

There was something inherent in a parent’s protectiveness of their young. She knew that it always came out strongest in the mother, and she had no doubt about her maternal instincts. But as she watched Connor dangle Cora by her arms and then kiss her belly, she suspected it probably ran deep in his blood as well.             

“Did you find anything of use?” Connor said. “I would like to know a bit more about our enemy so I can try and prepare myself. I still have no idea how my father expects to meet these Bloodweres. Much less re-induct them into the family. Seems like a fool’s errand.”

“You said yourself, your father must have a reason.”

“Yes, but the only report we have gotten from Bloodweres in centuries is them burning down an ancestral castle on hallowed ground. It’s a helluva statement, I admit, but it doesn’t reek of diplomacy at all. More like a call to arms.”

Sarah looked up over her books and twisted her lips. “There’s not a lot about them in the codex or the family histories either. They really do look like legends. Insubstantial.”

“You know how well our families are at hiding truths,” Connor reminded Sarah. She thought back to the first encounter with the Clawgroves. Both her parents and the Clawgroves had secretly condemned and executed one of their own – Caroline’s father – and then buried him.

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, “really.”

“I know you’re not,” he said.

“We have to focus. According to what I’ve found, the Bloodweres
did
belong to a rogue group of Bears. They hated the idea of turning human, and wanted instead to live what they saw as a pure life, one unmitigated by human form. But what the envoy said about them being ruthless isn’t far off either; they loved violence and war, and wanted the Great War to continue. It was the main reason they were banished.“There are reports of bear attacks throughout that region over the last century, as well. Mostly unverified reports of bear attacks. But the bears they’re describing are much too large to be natural.”

“So some of the Bloodweres
have
been picked up on the radar, from time to time?”

“Maybe,” she said, and motioned for Connor to hand over Cora, who was crying and wanted to be fed again. She raised her shirt and her brown breast tumbled out. Cora greedily grabbed onto it and began suckling.

“She’s hungry.”

“She’s
your
child,” she said with a wink, “of course she’s hungry.”

Connor stood up and looked out the window of the train. “We’ll be arriving soon,” he said, and came up behind her, draping his arms over the back seat and rubbing her shoulders. She closed her eyes and hummed pleasantly. “You ready for this?”

“I’m ready for anything.”

*

The town they arrived in was a small, quaint Canadian border post, humble in its own way. A number of loggers and truckers used it, and there was something distinctly blue-collar about it. The envoy had arranged for them to stay in a lodge up the hill, which offered a broad view of the hillsides and mountains in the distance. Sarah had a quick flashback to when she’d first entered this country. It was a truly wild place, untapped by human hands. It also happened to be dangerous.

At the lodge, they were surprised to see the big figure of Patrick waiting for them. He was dressed in black pants and a tight, buttoned shirt, with a glass of Scotch in one hand. He looked weathered, as if he’d suffered much in his own private exile, but when he saw the two of them, a smile arched at the ends of his lips. His grey hair had grown longer, and was now wavy, and even his moustache and beard now had a stronger definition . There was something remorseful in his eyes, but again, as the first time, Sarah could detect no malice in them.
Only sadness
, she thought.

“My boy, how are you? And Sarah! My god, you are more beautiful by the day. Your side of the family always did age more gracefully than mine. Just wait, in a few years Connor will look like me,” Patrick said, slapping his paunch.

“It’s good to see you again, Senator,” Sarah said, with Cora bundled in her arms.

“I told you once, call me Patrick. I’m not even a Senator anymore, so that title doesn’t really fit even from a technical side of things. Oh! And is this Cora?”

Sarah cast a fearful eye at Connor as the old man approached, and she saw him tighten his hands into fists. However, Patrick merely tickled Cora’s chin, and the small girl grabbed onto his pointer finger and giggled again.

“Such a happy child,” he said, “and the hope of both our tribes. I do not envy the burden of your birthright, little one. But then, with parents like these, I think you have nothing to fear.”

It was the nicest thing Patrick had ever said, and Sarah felt a little bit off-balance. Connor saved the moment by stepping forward, and his leather coat made a stretching sound as he waved at the envoy. Behind, waiting outside, their protective detail consisting of three of the Greyback’s finest warriors and trainers nodded and stood guard.

“The
reason
we’re here,” Connor grated.

“Ah, yes! Come with me and I’ll show what I’ve found,” Patrick said, leading them into the back of the lodge where there was a study filled with papers and open books. It looked like a madman’s nest, and Sarah was not hesitant to raise an eyebrow. “I’ve discovered where one of the most recent sightings was located. It’s here,” he said thrusting a plump finger at a map, “about ten clicks north of the old chalet. You heard about it, I suppose?”

“What makes you think these Bloodweres want anything to do with us?”

“I can see you’re as suspicious as ever. They chose the chalet for a reason – they knew that no one was there. It’s empty eleven months of the year. And it is the last remaining testament to a division between households.”

“You think burning the chalet was a symbolic gesture?” Sarah quipped.

Patrick narrowed his eyes at her. “I always said you had the sharpest mind I knew. Yes, I think it was a symbolic act. Now that Clawgrave and Greyback have unified once again, it would be understandable for them to want to be allowed back among our ranks. It’s been a long time… old hatreds die hard, don’t they?”

Connor rubbed his lips. “It’s still a long shot, I think,” Connor griped.

“Maybe,” Patrick admitted, “but the price of peace always is.”

***

Later, in the comfort of their room, Connor stood half-dressed, looking out the window at the night landscape. The trees had turned to black spikes against the horizon, and there was a muted sense of tension in the air, like the moment before thunder. A tingling in the air, something you could only vaguely pinpoint, but knew was coming any second.

In the spare room, Cora had gone off to sleep, and Sarah stepped lightly out and pursed her lips. She only had on  her small white T-shirt, which swayed as she walked, lifting up with the wind of her movements, so that her navel kept peeking out. Her large breasts pressed against the fabric, and in the wide V her cleavage could barely restrain itself.

“Do you see anything, my love?” she asked, coming up behind him.

She put her chin on his shoulder and wrapped her arms under his, crossing her fingers over his chest. He had grown larger in the past few years as well. His pectoral muscles stood out, and flexed instinctively under her fingertips, as if she’d touched the surface of a pond. She rubbed her fingers down across his chest hair, over his nipples, and down his abdomen. There were scars there, and she had learned all of them by heart.

She closed her eyes and counted.
This one from a hunting accident. This one from falling out of a tree when he was sixteen. This one, this one.
He reached down and placed his hand over hers, pressing her fingers into his muscles again and breathed deeply. She flattened herself against him, and listened to his heart through the broad rise of his scapula.

I can hear you,” she whispered, and pressed her groin into his buttocks.

He stiffened a bit and reached behind, stroking her hair. “You can do more than that,” he said.

As he turned, she kissed him again, drawing herself up on her toes so that she could reach his broad mouth and felt his tongue plunge into her again, sucking hard on her tongue in a way that made her squeal with delight into his mouth. His hands reached down her lower back and cupped her buttocks firmly. Gently, he slid one hand further down, tracing the curve of her ass, and then back up through the groove between them. She let out a little moan as his fingers pressed down on the outside of her panties, curving inward, where he delivered pressure on her asshole.