BearTrapped Page 2

  He snorted. “I’m not some wild, stupid beast. Our clans have made peace. Who am I to bring the fury of your people upon my head by harming you?”

  “You sound truthful,” she said quietly.

  “I am. I did think you’d be gone by now, however,” he grumbled, hollowing out a small bundle of pine straw and finely shredded wood. He took a knife from his belt on the opposite side of the hatchet and struck strip of metal, gathering shavings until he’d managed to create a spark into the fluffy bundle. He picked it up into his hands and blew gently until a fire suddenly caught and he stuffed it into his prepared spot in the pit.

  She was amazed he hadn’t set the hair on his arms and chest on fire—the thick pelt obviously kept him as warm as a shirt would or else why would he be so indecent as to forgo covering? Beneath the hair, she could see taut skin and carved, bulky muscles. She tapped her bottom lip with her forefinger. “Are you rethinking our deal?” she asked, watching the flames grow and catch on the logs. “I told you I was here to stay.”

  He scowled, throwing up his hands. “What kind of man would I be to turn a girl out in the snow? Women are precious. You give life and meaning to the world, even a little wolf like you. You must think we bears are monsters.”

  “I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”

  “Aye. I suppose you look old enough to be a woman.” He glanced up at her, his eyes lingering a split second on her chest before finally settling on her face. “I thought if I gave ya enough time, you’d catch a second wind and be on your way. No such luck though, hmm?” he said, standing and stretching.

  “Afraid not. You’re stuck with me,” she said, crossing her arms.

  His frown deepened. She hadn’t thought it possible to look any more thunderous. “I’m used to bad news at this point in my life,” he said.

  That statement made her laugh. Could he be any grumpier? Odd that she found this gruff, burly man amusing. The quizzical look on his face made her choke back her chortles. “I’m sorry. I must be annoying.”

  “Bah! You’re no worse than my family. I hope. Maybe I need some company for a while so I don’t forget how to socialize with others.”

  Kimber eyed him appreciatively. “Is that optimism in your voice?”

  Braeden shook his head. “Where’s that rabbit you caught? I’ll fix it up with some provisions I brought for a stew if you don’t mind sharing. It’ll be more substantial than by itself. Unless ya want to be greedy.”

  She knelt and grabbed the rabbit and handed it over. She’d been so caught up, she hadn’t dressed it yet. He shook his head when he took it and gave her a glance that felt decidedly disgusted.

  “You don’t smile a lot, do you?” she asked, amused.

  Again, he stood there stone-faced. She had a feeling he’d come out of the womb with a frown. Perhaps he lacked the muscles to do anything else?

  “I’ve a pot in my bag for water. If you’ll move aside, I’ll get it and cook us some grub.”

  She remembered the dust just as he brushed past her to his things. A cloud puffed around him when he picked up his lambskin blanket. She expected a roar or some tirade. Instead, he shook it out in her direction, giving her another disappointing look. Guilt suffused her with heat in her cheeks. She turned her face and coughed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered sheepishly. “I was trying to clean up and made a bit of a mess.”

  “You’re a handy one to have about.” Braeden grumbled under his breath and walked out. She followed him, noticing the sky looked dark with heavy, gray cloud.

  “Snow’s coming. We’ll be stuck here before long and you won’t be able to leave. A wolf belongs with the pack. Don’t you think you should get back to your town or your people before it’s too late?” Braeden asked, climbing the hillside until he reached a spring that bubbled out of the ground and trickled down to the valley.

  She’d wondered where the small stream began. So he knew the area, it was his cave with little doubt--his territory.

  “I’ve got nowhere to go. My family loves me, but they’re crowded and can’t afford to take care of me anymore. I was supposed to find a mate at our Moonlight Festival, but I couldn’t succeed in doing that much. I guess you could say I’m a failure and hiding out so no one knows how badly I’ve managed my life.”

  He shrugged, finishing cleaning the rabbit and washing his hands before filling his pot with water from the small depression in the ground. “Welcome to my life, Red.”

  “It’s Kimber.”

  “You look more like a Red to me. Anyway. I spend most of my time disappointing my father and mother. I’m the runt of the bunch. They are ever after me to settle down and make them some babies. You wouldn’t believe how irritating that is.”

  He stood a head taller than she. Kimber choked on her own saliva. “You jest, surely.”

  Braeden stood and blocked the dwindling light with his body. She felt like a mouse about to be squashed. “Mama’s a black bear. I’m not much taller than she is. Well, she’s a little shorter than you. My brothers are a good half foot taller than I am. Bigger and stronger and they spend too much time rubbing it in my face.”

  She swallowed. “Not sure I’d want to see that family reunion.”

  Braeden headed back down toward the cave. “Me either. I come here every year to escape them. You hear the same stories every year and watch your father and brothers make you feel like a baby long enough, you just want to escape. I dread the winter solstice every year because of them. They always roam home in time for solstice.” He made a sound of disgust.

  “Well that’s just sad,” she said, tripping over a root. Braeden caught her with one hand, not spilling a drop of water from the pot holding the butchered rabbit. “Thanks. No wonder you’re so grumpy.”

  He grunted, wearing his perpetual frown. “Not much to be happy or thankful for. I’m sure you have your own sad story to tell.”

  Chapter Three

  Braeden could cook. By damn, the man had a penchant for cooking, and she didn’t have a clue how he’d taken her scrawny kill and made it into something so delicious. Her mama had always told her the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, but she was inclined to believe it worked on women as well. She’d never been much of a cook, much to her mama’s dismay—preferring to hunt and spend time out of doors with her father.

  Kimber restrained herself from licking her bowl clean when she was finished eating her rabbit stew. She wasn’t interested in him, but she didn’t want him thinking she was some kind of savage who’d not been raised with decent manners.

  With a full belly, a bed of fragrant spruce bows, and her wool blankets, sleep should have come easily. However she struggled to get comfortable with the wind blowing through the skins he’d tacked over the opening of the cave after cleaning up from their supper. The hard floor radiated cold despite the soft needles and blanket beneath her. She shifted on her side, watching her fellow occupant as he lay oblivious to the cold and discomfort. He was engulfed in warmth and softness from his wool skins, and began snoring softly. She frowned with jealousy.

  Firelight glowed on the rock walls, and she lay staring at dancing shadows a while, willing sleep to come. The space was narrow enough she could reach a foot out and touch his arm or torso while he slept. The urge to rub her cold toes in his hair lured her to poke her foot out and touch the hair curling against the creamy wool beneath his head. She muffled a chuckle when he didn’t stir.

  Braeden radiated warmth, and her feet felt like blocks of ice. She tucked the blanket tighter around her feet but knew she would remain cold unless she jammed in next to Braeden where the cave narrowed closer to the fire. She wasn’t sure how she felt about sleeping that close but decided warmth was worth the risk. She inched downward, raising her knees and scooting herself and her bundle down until she was so close to him, if she rolled onto her back, his elbow would dig into her side.

  Heat warmed her blanket and she poked her toes out. Kimber closed her eye
s and tried again to sleep, but a new worry that an ember would catch her blanket on fire kept her from relaxing into slumber. There was a good reason he wasn’t this far down, she was certain. She sighed and inched and scraped back up to his level. He snorted and rolled onto his side facing her. She froze, watching him.

  She didn’t dare breathe while she waited to see if she’d woken him up. For some reason, she knew she didn’t want to do that. Without that thundercloud look on his face, he was really handsome in a brutal sort of way. The thick, straight black eyebrows were probably responsible for most of the angry look to his face, but he had an obstinate, square jaw with a defiant knob of a chin.

  He’d forgone shaving, perhaps being too lazy to accomplish the task, or without caring how anyone perceived him—she figured the latter. Stubble peppered his skin and neck. Black curly lashes rested on his cheeks, looking more like they belonged on a woman, but she knew they made an entrancing frame for his amber eyes. He had the thin lips and nose of a northerner, but his bridge had been broken many times and had a small crook marred the bridge in defiance of rapid shifter healing.

  Combine that face with his hard muscled body, broad shoulders and thick arms, and he looked every inch a brawler. She thought about the mention of his brothers and father and wondered how often he fought with them. How strange to have family you didn’t want to be around…

  Her feet began cooling down again away from the fire, returning to chunks of ice. Braeden continued sleeping, looking warm and cozy. Mischief took hold of her. Kimber eased a foot across the short distance and wiggled her toe under the edge of his sheep skin. His bare, hairy leg greeted her cold toe. She shivered and slowly put her entire foot against his calf, watching his face for the slightest reaction. A blissful sense of warmth suffused the pads of her toes and her foot.

  His continued snoring and stillness gave her confidence. She moved her other foot under his sheep skin, slowly touching each digit higher up on his leg until she had both feet firmly planted against him, soaking in his warmth. She shuddered with pleasure at her accomplishment.

  “What are you doing?” Braeden asked in a rough voice.

  Kimber’s soul practically leapt out of her body. She jerked her feet back, clamped her eyes shut and feigned sleep.

  “Kimber,” he growled softly.

  She peeked at him from one eye. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was. Until you stuck those chunks of ice on me. You’re wild as a badger if you think anyone could sleep through that.”

  “I was cold.”

  “I was warm,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stay on your side,” he warned, then rolled over and resumed his sleep.

  Kimber struggled to go to sleep. As much as she wanted rest to come, she was freezing. The spruce bows gave little insulation against the floor, and the animal skin stretched across the cave entrance couldn’t hold back the icy fingers slipping around its edges. Even with her dress on, her cloak, and blankets, she was still cold. She missed the warmth of a bed, a quilt, and walls. Perhaps this going off on her own wasn’t her brightest idea. This night seemed the coldest she’d encountered yet, and she was in a shelter. She never would survive the brutal winter out on the road.

  Braeden’s snoring interrupted her musings. She listened to him a while, keeping her feet tucked tightly inside her blanket and dress to hold onto what warmth she could. His snoring grew louder. She stared at his head, thrown back on a pillow of fluffy wool with a wide open mouth. Was he faking? How could he not wake himself up with such a racket? Her mother complained about her father snoring, and she wondered if this was a trait of all men. How in the world could anyone stand to sleep with that beside their head?

  Kimber decided to tempt fate and rolled closer to where Braeden slept. She threw caution to the wind and snuck her foot back under his blanket, letting her toes warm slightly before touching his leg once more. Braeden snorted awake and grabbed her knee, jerking her flush against his body.

  The move was so sudden and unexpected, she could do no more than gasp. He half rolled, tucked her into his big hairy chest, and continued sleeping. Kimber didn’t dare move, breathe, or blink.

  At least he’d ceased snoring in this position, she thought, looking up at the underside of his chin. She squirmed, trying to free herself, and he tightened his arm around her back. She froze. Was he feigning sleep? She listened to his slow, rhythmic breathing and convinced herself he was truly asleep, and yet each time she tried to divest herself of the fallen timber he called an arm, he would only hold her tighter. Finally, she gave up, snuggled into his warmth, and slept.

  “Why are you on my side?” a gruff voice woke her in the morning.

  She blinked the sleep out of her bleary eyes. “You pulled me over here,” she huffed.

  “I did not,” he said just as indignantly.

  She gaped at him. “You think I snuck back to your side, under your skins, and draped your arm over me? It weighs as much as I do. I couldn’t lift it to escape!”

  He frowned. “I’ve heard tales of she-wolves when they are ready to mate and the heat takes hold. You think I don’t know such things because I am an Ursine, but I know. I would be happy to oblige you, but women are so easily attached…I don’t want to disappoint you it will not work as you wish.”

  Kimber struggled to her feet and swatted at the wrinkles in her deep blue dress. “You are just so considerate.”

  “I try to be,” he said with a yawn.

  She was insulted in every way imaginable. “Just why do you think it wouldn’t work? Am I that bad to look at?”

  Braeden snorted. “There is more to it than a pretty face. You are too young to understand these things. You’ve never been with a man.”

  “I am not a maiden. I’ve lain with a man once before. I had to keep it secret amongst my people.”

  “Bah! Ha ha!” he laughed, making her head steam with anger.

  “That is nothing to laugh at,” she muttered, feeling resentful.

  He ceased his mirth and looked down at her. “Were I of a mind, I would show you just how misinformed you are. I’ve no patience these days to teach one so young.” He shook his head, stretching once before he flipped back his coverings.

  She bristled at his continued insults to her age. Her mother had started breeding when she was but fifteen, and Kimber was nearly five years older than that. She couldn’t help her mindset made her sound immature. Her father had allowed her to act a child for far too long, calling her his darling princess.

  When she reigned in her temper and sat up, she saw Braeden was the next thing to naked, and the small black breechcloth did little to hide what was beneath. In fact, she could see a bulge straining to be released. A stiff wind was all that was needed to unveil his manhood.

  Braeden stood and stretched, rubbing his chest and belly. Her gaze annoyingly followed the movement of his hands, tracing the lines of his broad chest down to his narrow hips. She found his lack of modesty as irritating as her inability to look away until he turned and walked outside. More than that, the fact that he was unbothered by the snow she clearly saw on the ground as he stepped out made her teeth grind.

  A pulse fluttered betwixt her legs in that secret part she’d only dared touch while bathing. Her mother explained the clitoris was used when with a mate, not on her own—that touching it would put devilish thoughts into her head. She hadn’t touched it now and wondered why the strange ache had developed on seeing a male bear of all things. The last time she’d felt something similar had been when the neighbor’s son, Jack, had talked her into wrestling in his barn together and he’d accidentally pushed his penis inside her while pinning her to the floor. It hadn’t hurt too much, but his father caught them in the act and soundly whipped Jack. Kimber had burned her bloodied shift and pretended nothing had happened, but she’d been intrigued ever since.

  She did not want his body. Just because she was unmated did not
mean she had designs on him. The notion was absurd. She was convinced the entire conversation had been had only for his own amusement at her expense. Then again, being of the bear clan, could he even impregnate her? This was an area her mother had never schooled her on, leaving Kimber in the dark on the ways of men and women, let alone the breeding of different clans. She couldn’t blame her mother, who’d only wanted to protect her eldest from settling at too young of an age.

  Still, she was curious just what sort of lessons Braeden could teach her. Having more experience could come in handy. Kimber couldn’t see how it would hurt her situation. Kimber waited a moment, wondering what he was doing out there when he didn’t return.

  She walked to the entrance and looked out to see him shifting into a bear. She froze, entranced by the spectacle, watching his huge muscles widen, skin disappear beneath a covering of dark brown fur. He changed as fluidly as her clansmen, except somehow this was more impressive and due entirely by the sheer size of him as he fully transformed into a bear. He claimed he was small, and the thought of his family men being larger made her throat tighten. They must be monsters if he was the runt.

  He climbed the mountain, running with grace when she expected lumbering clumsiness. She hated to admit she was surprised. Kimber stripped her dress off and dropped it to the cavern floor, deciding to shift and follow him.

  His tracks marred the snow, leaving her an easy trail to follow, and his long stride made her work to catch up to him. When he saw her, he snuffled and shook his head. She yipped, refusing to back down, and reluctantly, he allowed her to come alongside him. Up close, she could see his eyes retained a deep, golden amber. After exchanging looks, he led her over the ridge and down the other side to a stream. The water moved swiftly enough to keep ice from forming despite the dropping temperature and snow on the ground, but she expected as the season progressed that would change.

  She watched as he waded into the water and proceeded to fish. He dipped his head under the water along the edges, under rock lips. She whined with amusement when he failed to catch anything. This wasn’t spawning season. There would be no easy meal here, but as if spurred on by her detachment, he finally came up with a fish. Throwing it onto the bank at her, he watched her until she scooped it up with her teeth and moved it to safety, then continued fishing until he found two more.