Sold To The Bears (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1) (15 page)

During the night, even though they were both needed for various things, Grant and Adrian made sure I was never in bed alone. Even through a sleepy haze, I could tell that when one of them left, the other returned, as if in shifts. I always had a pair of strong arms around me.

Near dawn, I awoke to find Adrian beside me, awake.

He pulled me even closer and brushed a light kiss against my mouth. "Go back to sleep, beautiful. Sorry if I woke you."

Still tired, I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't, and ended up telling Adrian about the events of the night, from the time I saw the wolf in the yard, to the time I shot the arrow through his eye.

"It honestly didn't even occur to me to just shoot him from up here on the third story in the first place."

"Well, that's understandable. You were upset." Smoothing my hair, Adrian paused, his unusually serious expression becoming even a bit more serious still. "I think Grant wasn't entirely sure, but I knew you wouldn't leave the house again, no matter what. I had faith and trust in you.

“I knew you'd keep your cool somehow if there was a next time. I believed in you. And for what it's worth, I still think you would have been just fine in the cage, too." Stilling the movement of his hand smoothing my hair, he paused again before continuing. "You're the bravest, strongest, and most beautiful woman I've ever met, Lila. And I love you."

With a rush of emotion swelling in my chest, I didn't even hesitate before telling him I loved him, too. I felt it so strongly I hadn't even given it a second's thought.

Almost instantly, I realized I now had a bigger problem than worrying about potential trouble from the wolf pack from the far north. I realized that, for somewhat different reasons, I loved both Grant and Adrian. I wasn't sure how I was ever going to choose one of them to be my mate for life, to the exclusion of the other.

CHAPTER TEN

Holding a mug of tea out on the porch, I jumped a mile when the sirens went off. Tea, thankfully warm, not hot, splashed down the front of my long-sleeved red top.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I glanced down at a large wet blotch spreading across the bright fabric. "Geez."

I probably should have been used to the alarm sirens by this point. They had been going off at least twice a day for the previous three weeks, beginning a few days after all the Howell wolves had been killed. That was when Grant learned that the massive wolf shifters from the north that had joined forces with the Howell wolves had teamed up with the wolves from Stony Rapids.

He'd also learned that together, they planned to attack Sun Creek to claim it as their own, and they hadn't wasted any time in this effort. However, their plan to take over the city and claim its wealth and women had proved so far unsuccessful, to say the least. Time after time after time, they'd been driven back by Grant and his men, and dozens of the wolves from Stony Rapids had been killed, along with two of the great northern wolves.

This wasn't to say that Sun Creek felt like a safe place to be, though, by any means. The dozens of Stony Rapids wolves that had been killed barely made a dent in their population, which numbered several hundred. There were also ten remaining members of the northern wolf pack, and considering these massive wolves each seemed to have the strength of a dozen shifters, that wasn't an insignificant number.

The daily attacks had left nerves frayed, mine included. The alarm sirens themselves had left nerves frayed, even though at the same time, they were somewhat of a comfort. After the first attack by the Stony Rapids and northern wolves, Grant had put hundreds of guards on towers all around the entire town, and it was good to know that we all would have warning at the first sighting of a single wolf, even if that warning was ear-splitting and nerve-rattling.

I was also thankful for the alarm sirens for a different reason. Without them and the warning to seek shelter they provided, I got the feeling that Grant wouldn't even be letting me outside like he was. And despite the wolf attacks, October in Sun Creek, with the many trees in brilliant shades of orange and gold, was far too pretty a thing to miss.

Right then, as the alarm sirens whined, drowning out early morning birdsong, the trees around the family cabin-mansion could only be described as gorgeous. Pale sunshine made their golden leaves, which swayed in a gentle breeze, actually seem to glow. I didn't spend even another half-a-second further appreciating their beauty, though.

After being startled, spilling my tea, and glancing down at my soaked top, I immediately turned and began dashing down the length of the wraparound porch to the side door. Grant had made me promise to seek shelter right away the moment the sirens blared, whether I was shopping in town, having lunch with Fiona at the little cafe table outside her art studio, or just enjoying the weather on the porch at home. I’d done so each and every time, and I wasn't about to change that now.

For one thing, I wasn't crazy about the prospect of being attacked by a wolf, of course, but even more importantly, more crucially, I was intent on continuing to rebuild Grant's trust in me. And intent wasn't even a strong enough word. I was positively hell-bent on it.

My tennis shoes thudded on the light oak planking of the porch as I ran to the door, echoing the thudding of my heartbeat. When the alarm sirens sounded, there was no way to tell how near or how far away the wolves, or wolf, that had caused the alarms were.

Sometimes the sirens sounded when a guard, peering through binoculars, spotted wolves approaching the city, maybe still a quarter mile outside. Sometimes the sirens sounded when Steven Ashcrest, flying high above the city in dragon form, spotted a couple of wolves a mile beyond city limits. Though sometimes, by the time a guard was able to spot the wolves and sound the alarm, the wolves were already inside the city.

My tennis shoes continued to thud on the oak planking of the porch until all of a sudden, they didn't. There was just the deafening peal of several alarm sirens, and nothing else, for what felt like a really long moment, while I tripped over a planter of yellow mums and briefly went airborne.

Then, several sounds joined the peal of the alarms at once. My tea mug, which I'd dropped, clattered on the porch; I landed on one of my knees and then my hip with a soft little boom; and I uttered a swear word loud enough that anyone standing near would have heard it above the alarm sirens, for sure.

I pulled myself up to sit on my rear, then hugged my knee, which was smarting a quite a bit, to my chest. "Dammit. Son of a
bitch
."

Whenever in distress or in physical pain, I'd always felt the need to swear a couple different times, just for good measure. Not very ladylike, I was sure, but then again, I'd never been very preoccupied with being a perfect lady.

I rubbed my smarting knee, wincing. "Damned mums."

It was my own fault I'd tripped over them, as I'd been the one who'd left them where they'd been that morning after planting them. I'd been meaning to take them around to the front of the house to join a few other planters at the front door, though I hadn't had the chance yet. I'd taken a break in my planting to enjoy a mug of tea. I hadn't planned on the alarm sirens going off in the meantime.

After rubbing my knee a little more, I righted the overturned planter, scooped up a handful of spilled potting soil, and dumped it back in with the mums. "Dammit."

Not a moment later, as I was beginning to stand, another sound joined the pealing of the alarm sirens. Though, this sound was a little closer, a little lower. However, it was still quite loud. The sound was a deep, throaty snarl.

With my heartbeat now hammering in my ears, I slowly turned my face in the direction of the snarl. And what I saw seemed to make my heart skip a beat. Just beyond the porch railing, not more than seven or eight feet away from me, stood one of the massive northern wolves, one even bigger than the one I'd killed in the yard the night all the Howell wolves had been killed.

I suddenly couldn't swear any more. I couldn't even swallow. My mouth had gone completely dry. I couldn't think. I couldn't move.

The enormous wolf snarled again, baring his long, yellowish fangs. That did it. It spurred me out of my fear and into action. If he thought he was going to attack me, if he thought he was going to even kill me, he had another thing coming. I wasn't the type to go down without a fight.

However, my
fight
at that moment was a little stronger than my common sense. I grabbed the heavy terracotta mum planter and hurled it at the wolf, only realizing after it smashed against the railing, that the railing was in the way. I normally would have paused to call myself a dumb-ass, but now wasn't the time.

I snatched up a very sharp garden spade that had been next to the planter and brandished it at the snarling wolf. "Try me, then. Just try me. But just remember...I already killed one of your pack members a few weeks ago."

Of course, that had been with my longbow. Which I didn't currently have. I'd also been in a third-story window. Which I currently wasn't. Didn't matter. At least not to me right then. I'd just make do with the weapon I had, which happened to be a very sharp garden spade. I'd slash the wolf's throat with it.

Still snarling, his yellowish-green eyes glinting in the sun, he began creeping back from the railing, intending to pounce over it and onto me, I was sure. I tightened my grip on the spade and held it aloft, intending to stab him when he landed on me or near me.

But just then, there was a noise that wasn't the wolf snarling. It wasn't the alarm sirens, either. Just a few feet away from me, it was the sound of the side door creaking open. It was immediately followed by Aunt Mil's voice.

"Oh, for God's sake. Just get in. You can't kill them all, you know."

Sometimes my hatred for the wolves really had a tendency to overshadow my logical thinking. This had certainly been one of those times, I now realized. The side door was so close. The moment I'd heard the wolf snarling, I could have scooted toward it, yanked it open, and fallen through the doorway to safety. My first thought had been to meet the wolf's attack with a counter-attack. Of course. No wonder, given my anger at the wolves because of my history with them.

But now, my sensibility returned. Now, I scooted to the door, pushing myself up to stand at the same time. Not a moment too soon. Seeing that his opportunity was closing, the wolf pounced, long silvery gray fur rippling, and cleared the railing. But not before Mil grabbed me by the collar, yanked me inside, and slammed the door.

She locked all three bolts on it before turning to look at me with a sigh and a little shake of her head, rippling the long brown curls that framed her face. "I'm serious, Lila. You won't be satisfied until you kill every last one of them yourself, will you? Though with a simple garden spade, I have to say, that might be a bit of a tall order. Maybe leave the killing of the wolf shifters to Grant, Adrian, and the rest of the bear shifters."

I gasped, suddenly more terrified than I'd even been out on the porch.

"Please don't tell Grant I hesitated. Please don't tell Adrian, either. Please, Mil. I was literally running for the door when I tripped. I was keeping my promise to Grant. It was only after I fell, that I picked up the spade to defend myself. Yes, I was going to try to kill the wolf with it. That's only because once I was sitting on my rear, I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly. I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice but to defend myself from where I sat.

“But before then, I
was
doing exactly what Grant told me to do. I was focused on keeping myself safe and continuing to rebuild his trust in me."

Pressing her back against the door, Mil heaved a great sigh, and then gave me the tiniest hint of a smile. "I know. Don't worry, I know."

I heaved a sigh of relief myself, and the noise was closely followed by the sound of breaking glass coming from somewhere nearby.

Mil made a faint gasp, her face becoming white as a sheet. "Oh, God. I left the window in the family quarters open halfway. And Brandon and Martin...the boys are in there."

*

After Mil had made her admission about leaving a window in the family quarters open, I didn't waste a second. I knew the sound of breaking glass likely indicated that the wolf who'd been outside was now in the house. I wasn't about to let him touch a single hair on Brandon and Martin's heads.

I was still holding the very sharp garden spade, and I began charging out through the formal parlor to the family quarters with it. "Brandon! Martin! Hold on! Aunt Mil and I are coming!"

Mil followed close on my heels, running, but just as the two of us made it out to the family area of the ground floor, the two of us stopped dead in our tracks, Mil kind of crashing in to me. What had made us stop was the noise. The noise of a fierce shifter fight. Growling and snarling. Furniture being overturned. Howls of pain.

I stuck my head around the corner of the hallway and saw that the fight was just as fierce as it sounded. I recognized Grant, Adrian, and Samuel, all of them dark and enormous in their bear forms. Along with the bears, I assumed were the house guards that had been on duty that day, they fought the massive silvery gray wolf that had been outside.

While Adrian and one of the guards held him pinned on the dining room table, Grant, standing on his hind legs, slashed a mighty paw across his chest, sending jets of blood spraying in the air.

I didn't watch any more. I knew the wolf would likely soon be dead, and my main concern was locating Brandon and Martin and making sure they were okay. I scanned the family living area, immediately spotting the two little boys crouched behind a couch not too far away from the dining room table.

I knew there was a chance the great northern wolf could break free and harm them before the bears could pin him again. I had to get the boys to me and take them to safety in a different part of the house.

I caught Brandon's eye and held my arms out. "Grab your brother. Run to me."

Seeming almost heartbreakingly tiny compared to the brawling, growling shifters in the room, Brandon immediately did as he was told and began racing over to me clutching his brother's hand.