Once Upon a Shifter (111 page)

“And it never would have been, would it? When is there ever a good time to tell a woman that you’re a…what exactly are you?”

“We’re called shifters, Emily. I’m a bear shifter. My family, my clan have lived here in the Rockies for hundreds of years. Mostly, we keep to ourselves. We stay far away from the city. I came here because…because I needed to get away from the others. I couldn’t protect my family when they needed me, so I’ve spent my whole life trying to make up for it by protecting the humans.”

“From them? The cougars?”

“Not always. Humans are pretty good at being cruel to each other. But the cougars, they’re ruthless. And hungry. Their natural food sources have been largely destroyed as the humans have entrenched themselves in the area. Unlike us, though, the cougars lack the moral compass, the honor, to leave it alone. They want to take back their land.”

“And you don’t?”

“Not like that. I dream of a world where we can all live in peace, together.”

“You’re so noble,” I said.

“And you’re a smartass,” he said playfully. “I never wanted you to be a part of any of this. The cougars don’t like the fact that I don’t approve of their methods, and they would do anything to get me out of the way. Including killing my…”

“Your mate. So, I’m your mate, huh? What does that even mean?”

“Emily, you’re only my mate if you choose to be. There are forces beyond my control that draw me to you. I knew it the moment I saw you. Before we ever even met. But I thought I could ignore it and fight fate. I thought I was strong enough. That will alone would be enough. I underestimated the strength of the call.”

“I see.”

“I never wanted to put you in danger. And if you choose to stay with me, your life will be nothing but danger. They’ll never stop hunting you. To get to me. I won’t blame if you walk away from here and never come back.”

“So, you’re a bear shifter…”

“I think we covered that part. And you’re taking it surprisingly well.”

“And I’m your mate.”

“Yes.”

“It’s the most powerful call you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s fate for us to be together.”

“Unless you choose otherwise.”

“I don’t know, Jackson…I did move to the Rockies for adventure. Being the destined mate of a bear shifter wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I’m sure it won’t be dull.”

“Your enthusiasm is touching.”

“And you need a sense of humor.”

“And you need to learn some impulse control.”

I leaned in toward him and kissed him quickly on the mouth.

“Or maybe it can wait,” he said.

“Jackson,” I said, “What happened to Noah?”

He smiled and looked playfully down at his body. “He went to get my clothes.”

Chapter 9

Emily

I felt the warmth of Jackson’s sheets covering my still wet body as he rolled on top of me. His rippling body loomed over me as his lips kissed softly at my cheek. “You don’t have to go through with this, you know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

“Oh, thank god,” I said as I grabbed his face with both my hands and nibbled at his lips. “I think I’m going to go ahead and leave, then.”

“You better not,” he said as he dove onto my neck, biting at my skin. “You’re mine now.”

“Not yet,” I teased as he pinned my arms back behind my head and traced his lips down my naked flesh. The stubble from his beard danced along my skin, lighting my senses on fire as he sucked and nibbled along the crook of my elbow.

“Don’t be so sure,” he said. “You may not know this, Emily, but I tend to get what I want.”

I rolled my mouth away from him, “Is that right?” I said. “What about my free will? What about fighting fate?”

He gripped my face gently with his hands. “You don’t want that,” he said. “And neither do I.” He spread my legs as he pressed his body against me. I felt his cock straining against me, and I melted at the thought of feeling him inside me.

“No, I don’t. Lucky you,” I said as I pressed my body up into him. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Jackson slid his hands down my arms as his tongue circled my nipples, teasing me into a frenzy. I needed to feel him inside me. I wouldn’t be able to stand it much longer.

“Tell me you want me,” he said as he slid a thumb beneath my panties. His fingers parted the folds of my pussy as he felt the wetness inside. “Tell me,” he said, “or I’ll stop.” He swirled in light circles around my bud as he felt my breathing go shallow. I felt his muscled body flex as he pulled my panties off my body, exposing me to him fully, as he pressed his tip against my entrance.

I arched my back up, pressing my body into him. “Please,” I said. “Please take me. I want you inside me.”

“Good girl,” he said as he thrust himself inside up to the hilt, filling my body.

It was the most intense pleasure I’d ever felt. The raw passion, the tenderness mixed with the animalistic need that overtook his body was an intoxicating combination. I had never felt so desired. Both completely helpless and completely safe at once.

I moaned as he slid in and out of me more and more quickly, timing the thrusts of his body to match the intensity of my moans. We were more in sync than I’d imagined it possible to be. Our bodies connected as the enormity of his length filled me.

As he slid himself deeper inside my body, the growl that escaped his lips was pure animal. It was raw and passionate and powerful. And it was more than I could take. He felt my body contract as I grabbed onto his arms and threw my hips up onto him, taking him as deep inside me as I could bear.

He quickened his pace, thrusting harder and faster, slamming my body down into the bed as he pounded against me. He was hungry with need for me, and I would give it all willingly. I was his. I would be his mate. My body squeezed around him, clenching tightly around his length as I erupted into orgasm with a frenzied moan.

I felt him tense as he exploded inside me, the warmth of his seed filling my body as he came, before he finally collapsed on top of me. He wrapped his arms around my head, pulling me into his chest. And I felt safe in his embrace. Loved.

“Jackson,” I said. “My mate.”

“There is one more thing,” he said. “I’ve always found part…challenging. But please be brave. I’ll be gentle. ”

He placed his hand gently on my chest, curving his fingers so the pads pressed just beneath my collarbone. His hand transformed before my eyes, into a massive paw. “We’ve shared fluid. The vow of passion. But a mate is more than passion.”

He extended his sharp claws, piercing gently into my skin. “Blood,” he said. “The vow of family.”

I felt the change immediately. Not a heightening of my senses of a change in my character or anything inherently different about
me
. But rather, I felt him now. Inside me. A part of me. I felt the pull. I felt the bond. And I knew that I would be his mate forever.

***

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Shifters With Secrets (MMF)

By Roxie Noir

Chapter One

Sofia climbed the stone steps to the Placerville public library and paused for a moment at the top, looking at her reflection in the big glass doors. Even though she’d given herself a once-over before leaving her sublet apartment, only a few blocks away, another quick check couldn’t hurt.

Particularly since she was pretty sure Thomas was working that day.

Lipstick and eyeliner, check. A-line dress that nipped in at the waist and then flared out, accentuating her curves: check.

Cute flats: check.

She pushed her hair, dyed one shade redder than it was naturally, over her shoulder and went into the air conditioned cool of the library.

“Good morning!” came the cheery voice of Francis, the gray-haired reference librarian, going over a list at the desk with a highlighter.

“Good morning!” said Sofia, bounding up the steps.

The Placerville Public Library had once been the mansion of one of the first men in California to get rich from gold mining, and thanks to fundraising by the Placerville Historical Society, it had been restored to its former glory when it became the library. The reference desk sat in the front hall at a beautiful, refinished wooden desk.

“You need the key?” Francis asked, already reaching into the drawer to her right to pull it out.

“As usual, please,” said Sofia, adjusting her laptop bag over her shoulder.

Francis slid the key over the desk to her, along with the sign out sheet for the California History Room. For the last nine slots — almost two weeks — the only name on it was her own. The last person to check the key to the room out before her had done so months ago.

Apparently, shelves and shelves of old newspapers, magazines from the 1850s, and microfiche weren’t exactly popular. Sofia signed her name and took the heavy brass skeleton key. It was attached by a short chain to a heavy brass plaque that read
Property of the City of Placerville
to prevent theft.

Who on earth would want to steal the key to the California History Room was beyond Sofia. As much as she loved her research on the mythology of the area and how it had affected the legends and tall tales of the gold miners, there was nothing at all valuable in there. Just a whole bunch of old stuff.

“Don’t work too hard,” called Francis after her, as Sofia made her way to the wood and iron staircase in the corner of the reading room.

“I’ll try,” called Sofia, already descending the steps toward the basement room.

She loved libraries in general, but loved the Placerville library in particular. It combined the wonderful smell of old books with the smell of the pine that made up the building, and as she descended to the half-basement — the library was on a hill, so it was the first floor on one side — she felt like she was going back in time, imagining the smells of whiskey and fireplaces burning.

The California History Room was at the end of a long hallway, lit with the windows to the back of the block on one side. This level of the building was all stone work, and it was cooler than the level upstairs, and also totally quiet, since the walls and carpet absorbed sound.

Just like every morning, Sofia turned the key in the big, old-fashioned lock and turned it, savoring the satisfying feeling of the tumblers clicking into place, and pushed the door open.

Then she gasped.

The California History Room was in shambles.

Sofia’s hands flew to her mouth, and the door banged open. The windows to her left — old, high windows — were shattered, and a breeze blew through them. Newspaper pages flapped on the floor, scattered everywhere and torn apart, the boxes that had held them on the shelves splayed all over the floor as well.

She took a step into the room, holding her breath, and glass crunched underfoot. The California History Room wasn’t big, but it looked like someone had just yanked everything off of every shelf, scattering the hundred-year-old books and newspapers everywhere.

Her hands shaking, she picked her way carefully through the mess, cautious not to step on any of the delicate books now on the floor.

In the back of the room, she could see the microfilm unspooled everywhere and the reader on its side on the floor, where someone had obviously pushed it off of the desk. Even from a few feet away, Sofia could tell that it was broken repair.

Who would do this?
She wondered, her thoughts swirling.
There’s nothing valuable here. The rest of the library is fine.

Carefully, Sofia crouched, her heels crunching a little on the glass that was everywhere, and examined the now-broken microfilm reader. It was huge and heavy, a piece of steel-and-glass technology that couldn’t be any newer than the mid-80s, and someone had simply tossed it onto the floor.

“Sofia?” said a deep voice from the door. “Sofia, are you okay?”

Taken by surprise, Sofia wobbled a little, putting one hand on the ground to steady herself but instead she felt the sharp prick of a glass shard.

“Shit,” she muttered, holding up her finger and watching the blood drip onto the floor.

“I’m here,” she called.

Thomas crunched over, walking carefully around the newspapers.

“Are you all right?” he asked, worriedly, making his way toward her and crouching as well.

“I’m fine, I just got here,” she said, still holding her injured hand aloft. “It was like this already.”

“You gotta get out of here,” he said, reaching for her injured hand. “I’m calling the police.”

He cradled her hand in his much larger one, not at all bothered by the sight of her blood.

Sofia felt tears begin to prick at her eyes: now, she’d have to spend days and days helping to clean up this mess, and that was supposed to be valuable research time.

Then, a terrible thought struck her, and she raised her head, looking toward the shelf where she kept the books she’d checked out for research.

It was empty.