Wanted By The Soldier Bear (Heroes of Shifter Creek 1) Page 2

  And they had the Johannssons.

  Hours passed. Realizing it had been almost a full day since the family disappeared, Cecelia refused to wait any longer. She may not be a bear, but neither were the hunters. She wanted to fight. It was a trait her and her brother shared.

  She headed out into the woods in the same direction Marcus had. His paw prints were heavy against the ground, evidence of his enormous size. As she followed them, she was attentive to her surroundings. Far into the woods, she felt the burden of eyes on her, like she had the day before. Somebody watched her, but they did not strike.

  “Marcus, where are you?” she whispered, tightening her flannel around her.

  She found him alone under a large oak that dominated the forest around it. Still in his bear form, he lay unmoving, a spear pierced deep within his back. Stifling a cry, Cecelia ran to him and passed a hand over his heavy fur, not knowing what to do. He was so still... She set her hand near his snout, praying she would feel his warm breath upon her hand.

  There was nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Refusing to accept that Marcus was dead, Cecelia placed his giant paw against her cheek to see if there was a pulse. There wasn’t. It was warm, but there was no life left in it. Grief stricken, she let his paw drop.

  As usual of her, her anger reigned over her fear. She pulled the spear from his back and tossed it far into the trees, hoping it somehow struck whoever did this to him. Then she fell next to him, her arms stretched over his fur as she began to cry, her anger short lived.

  She cried for the life Marcus had lost. She cried for Michael and the Johannssons. And she cried because she didn’t know what else to do. She could take the minivan and leave, but doing so felt like a betrayal to the family.

  But mostly, she cried for Marcus.

  He was a stranger, but he was still a person. His life was worthy of her tears. Closing her eyes, she pressed her head against his fur. A weird sensation came over her as she cried, similar to the déjà vu she had experienced earlier. It was peaceful, but it only made her sob harder. The weight beneath her shifted as Marcus changed, becoming human again, though he was still gone. It was the interruption Cecelia needed to compose herself. She backed away from his body, wiping away her tears as she tried to think.

  She had to get away from here. Whoever did this likely wasn’t far. She was willing to confront them, but on her own terms. Facing the woods, she pondered if she should go back to the cabin or continue in the direction Marcus had gone in search of the family.

  “How did you do that?” a man that sounded very much like Marcus asked behind her.

  Sharply, she turned back toward him. To her disbelief, Marcus sat up, a head on his hand as if he had suffered nothing more than a headache and not the void of death.

  “You’re okay!” she cried.

  “Yes, but how?” he questioned. “How did you heal me?”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about. “I didn’t,” she said. “You must have healed yourself. It’s the shifter in you.”

  “But I thought...” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the family is still alive. At least I think so. I tracked them this far, but then I was ambushed.”

  “What happened?” she asked, comforted by his news that the Johannssons lived.

  “I’m not sure. It was strange. I found an old man just sitting here. There was a knowing in his aging eyes, but he didn’t seem hostile. The spear plunging into my back – that was hostile. There must have been someone else here. I stumbled towards the man and I fell.”

  It was terrible to hear, but he was alive now. “We have to keep going,” she determined, stepping toward the opposite direction she came. “We don’t know how much time we have before they do something terrible to the family.”

  Marcus grabbed her arm. “I don’t think we can,” he told her. “I’ve lost the trace. It’s gone.”

  She didn’t believe him. “A bear’s sense of smell is unmatched in nature.”

  “I know. I think the old man has something to do with it. He did something to remove the trace, I’m sure.”

  “I don’t care,” she insisted. “We know they headed in this general direction. We’ll keep searching.”

  Marcus refused to let go of her arm. He gripped her like a straitjacket –resilient for her own protection. “This isn’t hunt and find, Cecelia. There’s something bigger going on here. If we want to save the family, we have to figure out what it is. Recon.”

  “Is that what you did in the military?” she asked, still having trouble picturing a rogue like Marcus taking orders from a higher command. “Recon?”

  “I did a lot of things in the military. Some good. Some unimaginable.”

  There was a profound regret to him as he spoke. It pulled at her. “You were saving lives.”

  “And I was taking them. War isn’t easy.”

  “No,” she conceded. “It’s not.”

  His hold on her arm took on a new meaning, as if she were his rock, keeping him steady. It was dizzying. Without thinking, she kissed him. No gentleman, he kissed her back, his tongue dominating hers. He pulled her close to him and pinned her against the oak tree, pressing his body against hers, refusing to break the kiss. It hurt a little, but she liked it. Rough was how Cecelia played.

  She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, not with the family to find, but she needed release from the anguish of the day. Her body craved it. Desiring more than his kisses, she pulled his T-shirt off, revealing the hard lines of his abs. Her core pulsed, sending a shiver down her spine as she traced her finger down his stomach, feeling his cock press against her through his jeans, as thick and hard as his abs.

  He stepped back. “Undress for me,” he commanded, speaking as if he had waited years to see her naked.

  Complying, she unbuttoned her purple flannel and pulled off the black tank top underneath. Then she unhooked her bra, letting her ample breasts fall free, proud of her curves. As she stood topless in her jeans, her long raven-black hair falling around her pale skin, he growled, taking all of her beauty in.

  “I want you,” he uttered, putting her hand on his cock, hungry for her. “I need you. Can you feel how much I need you?”

  It made her core ache. “Then take me,” she said.

  Desperate to feel each other’s touch, they ripped what clothes remained off each other, their kisses stronger than before, bruising each other’s lips. Once she was fully naked, he pinned her to the tree once more. “I want to know what you feel like,” he professed, and he plunged his fingers into her wet core.

  She accepted him gladly, clenching herself around his fingers as he massaged her from the inside, preparing her for the bear that was to come. His touch was like lightning, striking her body with a wave of bliss as his fingers plunged in and out of her. It felt so good, her core spilled over, drenching his hand.

  “I’m going to come,” she moaned, her back arching against the tree as he continued to ignite her body.

  Taking his cue, he turned her around and held her arms over her head. With great anticipation, she pushed her backside out and spread her legs apart, giving him access. In a brief moment of affection, he brushed her hair aside and kissed her back, and then he entered her.

  His cock was everything it promised to be. Thick within her, it filled her up completely. Letting her arms go free, he pulled her hips closer to him, pushing further into her as he began circling his cock, hitting every sweet part of her. Her wetness continued to saturate him, causing him to grow bigger inside her.

  She moaned loudly. It ached to have him inside of her, but it was the type of pain her body yearned for. Hearing her moan set him off. Unable to control himself, he began driving himself harder, building up momentum until his thrusts were merciless.

  She loved it. Bending forward as far as the tree allowed, she invited him to be as rough with her as he wanted, every stroke of his cock inside her like another burst of lightning.

&nbs
p; “More,” she encouraged, feeling the thunder about to erupt. “I want more.”

  Growling with satisfaction, he rubbed her clit as he continued to thrust. It sent her over the edge. Her core flooded over as a wave of bliss sieged her – the release she’d craved.

  Her climax was his. With a final thrust that touched her soul, he joined her in her bliss, holding her close as his affections poured free, still firmly inside her. It felt so natural to have him there that she was disappointed when he eventually moved away.

  But it was only temporary. Facing her once more, he kissed her again, his grip strong but his intentions much more tender. “You saved me today,” he murmured before moving his kisses down to her neck. “In more ways than one.”

  She didn’t know why, but something about the way he spoke hit a chord in her. That’s when she realized – they had met before.

  Chapter Four

  “You went to boot camp with my brother,” Cecelia asserted as she pulled on her jeans and buttoned up her flannel. “I was at the graduation.”

  “Didn’t your brother tell you I served with him?” Marcus asked, standing naked and unashamed, slower to dress than she was.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t think it was so long ago. I was eighteen, so what was that... six years ago?”

  “Something like that,” he mumbled.

  “You look different now,” she noted. “Your muscles have filled out. And you’re not as clean-cut. You didn’t have tattoos back then. What changed you?”

  “War,” he said, finally dressing. “It isn’t easy.”

  ***

  Marcus

  She remembered him. He didn’t think she would have, though he certainly remembered her. It was impossible not to. Back then, he knew she was his mate.

  Bears didn’t always recognize their mates when they first saw them, and some didn’t care even when they did, having no tolerance for monogamy, but he had. And he cared. Standing in the back row of recruits as they were sworn into the military after boot camp, he had looked out onto the gathering of family and friends and he’d seen her.

  She wasn’t watching the recruits. Her attention was drawn to a statue of a female soldier – a shifter in human form flexing her bear arm. And she had smiled, a look of longing about her. When she drew her attention back to the induction, she was a mix of pride and boredom. It had made Marcus smile. Graduation was boring as hell, even for an alpha force that few people knew about.

  He wanted to get to know her better, but she was young, and he was heading off to war. He used to be part of the machine, eager to please his commanders, to do as he was bided to do, thinking he was working for the greater good. Nothing could stop him from doing his part, not even his mate, but he made sure to stay close to her brother so that he could find her again, one day.

  The war changed everything. Surrounded by bullet holes and broken men, he learned real fast that there was no greater good. There was only chaos, a chaos that couldn’t be controlled. After his four-year contract was up, he quit, leaving his commanders in his dust. His first inclination had been to find her, and he had. He tracked her down to a college in the city. Cecelia wasn’t the type to wear a smile openly, but he could tell she was happy. She didn’t need a hardened ex-soldier. She deserved better.

  So he left.

  When Barry called him, he almost hadn’t come, even though it was no coincidence he was only a state away. It kept him close to her without interfering in her life. But he had to come when he heard she may be in danger. He had to make sure she was okay.

  Now, he was glad he did. Not just because of what they’d done, as incredible as it was, but because Cecelia was in a lot more trouble than she realized. The Bear Hunters had left her alone because she wasn’t a shifter, but he wondered if she was really the one they were after all along.

  ***

  Cecelia

  “…and my brother introduced us,” Cecelia recalled. “It was short, just a quick hello on both our parts, but we met.”

  “Six years is a long time,” he said. “I don’t remember much from my time in the military. I try not to.”

  As Marcus spoke, a shadow crossed his face. He was withholding something, she knew, but she didn’t press. From the sound of it, the war had been harsh. It made her think of her brother, still out there fighting to protect the innocent. She’d always had a great respect for her brother, but she felt it more than ever.

  Falling back against the tree, her temporary amusement gone, she sighed. “What do we do now? We don’t have much to go on. I don’t know much about the Bear Hunters. I doubted they were truly still around until now.”

  “Many do,” he said. “I knew they still slogged around in their small bands, but I didn’t think they were the threat they once were. I have a feeling they’re growing, reinstating themselves. Which means trouble for our kind.”

  “Starting with the Johannssons,” she uttered. “I’m glad they’re still alive, but I don’t understand why they took them to begin with. The Bear Hunters are known to kill bears in their sleep. They don’t take hostages.”

  He studied her. Beneath his gaze, she felt more exposed than she had when she was pressed naked against him.

  Oh my mercy, we had sex! She realized, but it was minor compared to the danger at hand. There was no time for awkward conversation. Emotions had been running high with his near death; they had both needed a release. They got it, and now they had to focus back on saving the Johannssons. In a way, their love making was almost military.

  “I’m not sure why either, but I have a theory,” he told her. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

  “Why?” she asked, trying to keep up with his pace. He was in a hurry. “What are you thinking?”

  “You’ll see,” he said, revealing nothing.

  “No need to be so covert,” she mumbled.

  “It’s what I do best.”

  She knew what he did best, she had experienced it firsthand, but she didn’t say so. Focus, she ordered herself. This isn’t some holiday romance. This is life or death. Thinking of Michael, she clenched her fists tight, ready to do some damage. It took a distinct kind of evil to kidnap a trio of kids.

  At the cabin, Marcus went directly to the kitchen island. He retrieved a sharp knife from the drawer and held his hand up.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. They didn’t have time for demonstrations.

  “This,” he said, and he sliced open his hand, allowing blood to run down the tattoos of his arm. It was almost frightening to watch, especially how cool he remained doing it, hardly flinching as the blade pierced his skin.

  Cecelia wanted to run to him, but she refused. He had done this to himself, for reasons she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. The war had messed him up, big time. “Are you done proving how bad ass you are?” she asked.

  It was not the response he expected. “I’m bleeding,” he said expectantly. “And I’m not going anywhere until it heals.”

  She was starting to suspect he stabbed himself with the spear. “Is this some kind of psychotic episode or something?” She was genuinely concerned. “If it is, tell me how I can help.”

  Instead of answering, he took the knife and sliced his hand again. The blood was like a waterfall gushing from a mountainside. “Marcus!” she cried, and she finally went to him, grabbing a kitchen cloth to cover the wound. She applied pressure to his hand, but it wouldn’t stop bleeding. “What did you do?”

  “Make it stop,” he muttered, his strength literally pouring out of him.

  “I’m trying,” she said, her emotions starting to rise, confused as to what was happening and angry that he would hurt himself. Soon, those emotions were dominated by a sense of peace, the same she had felt earlier that day. With the peace, a light formed around his wound, and it healed, closing up completely.

  “I knew it,” he said, letting the cloth drop, but there was no victory in his tone. It devastated him. “You’re a healer.”

  Astonished
, Cecelia looked down at her own hands, which were covered in his blood. That was impossible. She had never healed a person before. She fell back against the counter, trying to take it in. “But I’m not a shifter.”

  “You didn’t get the shifter gene, but you definitely inherited a special gift,” he attested. “You can heal.”

  “Why does that make you so sad?” she asked, observing him.

  “Because it means the Bear Hunters weren’t after the Johannssons. They were after you.”

  ***

  Chapter Five

  “We have to learn more,” Cecelia declared while on her hands and knees searching through the wall-to-wall bookshelf in the study. “This cabin is old. It’s been passed from bear to bear for generations. There has to be something of relevance here.”

  “Here,” Marcus said, grabbing a dusty encyclopedia at the bottom of the shelf. “It’s a history of shifters. You are looking for answers to your gift?”

  “No,” she replied, flipping through the pages, scanning through drawings of snakes and rhinos and lions. And, of course, bears. “I want to figure out why the Bear Hunters would need a healer.”

  “Isn’t obvious? To heal.”

  She ignored the comment, looking for something more. Finally, she landed on the section about the Bear Hunters. It didn’t take her long to read through it. The text shocked her, even more than learning that she could heal. In her mind, she had always imagined the Bear Hunters to be religious nutcases who didn’t believe shifters should exist because it defied the natural order or some other nonsense.

  But the Bear Hunters weren’t human, not completely. They were shifters themselves.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, closing the encyclopedia. “Why would other shifters want to make bears extinct?”

  “So we can’t dominate,” Marcus speculated. “We’re bigger than a wolf, faster than a rhino, and better hunters than lions. We could easily take over the shifter world. We did take over the shifter world,” he corrected. “Eons ago, there was a war between humans – all humans, even shifters. The bears fought on the side that won, protecting the liberty of the people. Until order was restored, they temporarily took charge. Obviously, it left a bad taste in the mouth of some shifters.”