Romance: Stranded With The Lion: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Werebear Romance, Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (3 page)

Chapter 5

The following morning, Ingrid found herself waking to the smell of breakfast and the sound of the door sliding open and closed.

Jolting awake, the young woman was startled to see another woman standing in front of the door, staring at her vacantly and holding to a tray of food.

Pushing herself up to see her, Ingrid noticed that she was dressed like a maid would. Dark clothes, a neat apron, and golden hair pulled back into a professional bun suited the woman, and she looked young.

She looked near to Ingrid’s age, probably younger.

“H-hey,” Ingrid greeted with a whisper, more than happy to see someone different, maybe someone who could help her.

The young blonde watched her without sign of expression, and with a demure nod, proceeded in towards the nightstand. Ingrid watched her step close with high anticipation.

“Are you—are you helping me? Do you know where I am?”

The young woman said nothing, merely settled the tray over the surface of the nightstand before backing off. Ingrid made to grab her but her wrists tugged harshly against her restraints.

“Hold on, you’ve got to help me out! Is he keeping you trapped here too? Maybe we can help each other!”

The maid said nothing but began to walk off even as Ingrid tried to get her attention.

The maid proceeded to take care of the affairs of the room, casually ignoring every call Ingrid made as she pushed the curtains of the bed to their respective places and even opening the nearby window. Sunlight streamed better into the room and the smell of trees and flowers filtered into the air.

Still, Ingrid tried to get the girl’s attention.

“Do you have a name? Anything? My name’s Ingrid. Listen, I can help you. In my town I work with people—good people who can help you find a way out of here.”

Nothing from the girl, and she felt desperation kick in when she saw the girl open a door that Ingrid hadn’t noticed before in the room.

It slid open to reveal a closet and after a moment, the girl pulled out a single outfit that consisted of a pale blouse and slacks of a dark emerald shade.

She set it down on the bed and with a final nod, the girl walked off toward the door.

“Wait!” Ingrid called after her but the door slid back shut without a word from her newest guest. Ingrid stared after her, baffled. Her nerves, already frayed enough as they were, made her itch to get up and launch out of the window.

Turning her attention toward the tray of food, Ingrid looked over the meal. Eggs, bacon, a slice of toast, and a bowl of fruit. It was artfully placed together and a glass of water completed the set.

Ingrid reached for that first before she spied the fork and knife. Already her mind began to hatch up a plan and after downing the glass of cool water—it was delicious and fresh—she nabbed the knife and began to shove the tip into the keyhole.

After several minutes of struggling in vain, Ingrid felt her stomach give a nasty growl.

The food looked and smelled delicious and while the water had only sated her for a moment, she needed more. She didn’t want to accept this food, however, and after some internal arguing, decided it was in her best interest any way to just eat the food.

Consider it a final moment of defiance. Not only did you escape, but you ate the food out of spite!
Yeah that made sense.

Unable to hold back, Ingrid begrudgingly grabbed hold of a slice of toast and bit into it. The flavor of rich grains and silky butter exploded over her taste buds and made Ingrid let out a small moan of surprise.

It was unlike any of the sturdy bricks of bread she had had in the past. With one bite, Ingrid was unable to stop completely and before she knew it, she was pushing down bites of succulent grapes into her mouth alongside with the tangy taste of the bacon. Even the eggs were savory and Ingrid had trouble keeping herself from wiping her plates clean.

Before she knew it, her belly was full and she felt like she had enjoyed one of the best breakfasts of her life. If this had been under different circumstances, she would probably be feeling really pampered, instead she wanted nothing more than to find her captor and punch him in the mouth.

But she really needed to escape, and she much rather escape than deal with him ever again.

It took some time of brooding before Ingrid allowed herself to look at the clothes that the maid had left behind.

A huff of dark amusement burst through the woman’s lips, forcing a stray lock of her brown hair to flap over her face and obscure one of her eyes.

The warm air that trailed into the room was pleasant but sitting down made the otherwise nice atmosphere feel stuffy and the fact her wrists were very much tied up only made the sensation tighten hard around her throat.

She wanted out. She wanted to leave. She wanted a chance to expose the bastard that killed an innocent soul and took her away against her will.

But the only thing she knew at the moment was that getting upset would get her nowhere. Practicing a long intake of breath, Ingrid focused on hatching a plan. Getting out of the handcuffs would be the easy part of making it out of here alive, and so she couldn’t just up and leave without something solid.

The first obvious choice was trying to see if she could escape out the window. The sheets and curtains around her would be more than enough to fasten into some kind of rope—high quality fabric like this didn’t tear easy, so she was sure it would hold her weight.

The next thing was maybe disappearing into the woods, find a way she could gain a better vantage point of the estate—and if possible—steal a vehicle or convince someone to let her escape. She only hoped the next person she saw wasn’t as…willfully ignorant of her cries like the maid had been.

Returning to the cuffs, Ingrid wiggled her hands around the metal restraints. They were easily spaced enough for her to not feel completely held back, and being able to reach across the nightstand was simple enough.

Ingrid checked the drawers in the nightstand, grumbling to her when she found nothing she could use to break the chains or something.

Instead, she felt a stroke of an idea when her hands stumbled into a bottle and when she pulled it out, the determination flared when she noticed it was some kind of oil product.

Good. This makes getting out much easier.

She was already beginning to screw the cap open when the doorknob began to creak once more. Panic set in and Ingrid hurried to screw the bottle close and toss it back where she found it.

She managed to shut the drawer closed by the time the door slid open and she tried to appear like she hadn’t found a little something that gave her hope.

She had half-expected the maid to return, probably to offer some other ludicrous thing, but instead she was abruptly beneath the brown gaze of her captor—Leo.

“Good morning,” He spoke warmly.

Ingrid glared in response.

“Did you sleep well?”

She fought the urge to spit out a reply, remembering the actions of this man and the nervousness in her stomach churned nastily.

The last thing she wanted to do now was provoke him, and she wasn’t sure if he was as forgiving as his expression gave her. Someone like him couldn’t possibly be trusted.

Leo watched her, and she gave him a quick once over. He was dressed professionally. Loose black slacks, a simple button up white shirt, and a silver and gold tie drapped over his neck.

The clothing suited him, made him appear like had just returned from the office and wanting nothing more than to sit back and relax, but she doubted—judging by his easy stance and lack of exhaustion in his expression—this was probably all for show.

What was more irritating was how his hair just fell over his head in charming waves. The sunlight pronounced strands of his hair to gold, and curved within his irises like molten honey.

He didn’t seem to be hiding anything in his pockets, no weapon or tool he could use for torture. Still, she had handled many cases where abuse wasn’t always physical, and she had had to prepare herself for years to keep on her toes among supposed charming snakes like him. She would not fall prey to his looks, this she would make sure.

“What is it, cat got your tongue?” He asked, tone somewhat teasing even while his eyes watched her incessantly.

It was becoming more and more unnerving.

“No,” she replied stiffly. “I hardly slept.”

“That’s hardly my fault,” he replied with a shrug.

“It has
everything
to do with your fault!” Ingrid snapped despite herself and she quickly ducked her chin and reined her anger back. This earned her a raised brow and an amused stare.

“What do you want with me?”

“Nothing really.”

“Then why am I here?”

He shifted then, pushing his hands to rest over his hips. She knew that stance. He was convinced he was in control. All men did this when they knew they had a one up on someone else.

Had she been able to get on her feet without the cuffs, she would be making sure to meet his gaze closely. Instead, she was forced to just glower at him from her contorted position on the bed.

“You saw too much, Ingrid. I can’t let you leave.”

“So what, you’re going to keep me here?” She scoffed, “Forever?”

He pursed his lips, eyes rolling in a mock pensive expression. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“You’re vile!” She hissed, unable to hold back now.

“What kind of sick person would react like that when dealing with a hostage? You’re clearly insane.”

“Call me whatever you want,” Leo said, his voice falling flat.

“But there’s no use trying to escape from here. I’m here to offer you a few options.”

Ingrid pushed herself up and settled against the back of the bed in a crouch, not wanting him anywhere near her.

“Unless these options lead me out of this place and safe in my home, I’m not interested.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, tilting his chin. Display of arrogance. What a bastard.

“Because, I’m sure you’ll want to consider them.”

Ingrid nearly spat back another response, wanting nothing more than for him to leave and allow her to take her time to escape. But another part of her stopped her then.

If she snarled at him to leave, he would probably be expecting her to make an escape. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise her if he had someone watching the window.

He clearly owned this place, or at least acted like he did, and so there was no doubt he probably had the means to make sure she didn’t get a chance to escape as easily as she wanted.

No… getting angry now wasn’t going to get her where she wanted. Her safest bet was to play along and probably get a carrot out of him.

With a slow sigh, she nudged her chin at him, wordlessly allowing him to continue. Leo took a few steps closer, nearing her side of the large bed.

Ingrid moved back further against the wall, eager to keep her distance.

“Alright then, first things first. I own this place, Ingrid. I’ve owned all of this for quite some time, and so I’ve got more than the means to make sure I can keep you here, but you’ve probably already figured that much. So, here’s what I can offer you.”

“Option one; you can stay here—preferably as my guest rather than prisoner—and live here without worry of anything else for the rest of your life. Granted, I would much rather you not be here, but I can’t expect you to be as trusting as you insist to be. So any options of you leaving are out of the question. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“Option two; you can continue to be a prisoner here, in this room, where you will be cared for by Nadya—the lovely young woman who brought you your breakfast. And no, don’t bother trying to ask her for her. She’s a deaf mute and extremely loyal to me and my family—and so long as you are respectful, I’ll think about freeing you from those cuffs.”

He took another step closer before taking a seat near her.

Ingrid visibly squirmed at his proximity.

“Option three; you can easily live your life in the rooms near the basement where you will have no chance to even see sunlight. This is a very drastic option and one I hope I don’t have to enforce, since it can be a little uncomfortable down there. I would much rather you just follow the rules and live comfortably.”

“You sure love hearing yourself talk,” Ingrid snarled. Leo rose a brow.

“Is that an answer?”

“I’ll need some time to think about it.” She said lowly.

“Because you can paint the picture anyway you want it, there’s still a lot of red on your hands and cuffs around my wrists. So I doubt your hopes for my comfort are enough.”

At this, Leo let out a snicker, “You certainly are something.”

Then there was a tension, something shifted in the way he watched her, something that made alarms chime in her head and her guard rise against him. She didn’t like this… she didn’t like him.

She had always pushed men away, never feeling comfortable when they made advances since she knew exactly what they were capable of, and for the first time since she had woke, she had realized that there was something this man could still do. And it would be far worse than simply killing her.