Unleashed By her Bear by Felicity Heaton

Chapter 5

Callie revised her previous thought as Bear dragged her through the woods, looking ready to murder her and bury her body where no one would find it. She hadn’t gone from one bad situation to another.

She had gone from being in shit to being in deep shit. Up to her neck level deep shit.

She tossed a glance at her surroundings, gaze darting everywhere as she hobbled along behind the big brute, seeking an escape route even when she knew he was right. Running would get her nowhere. She could probably manage a shift, but her leg was in agony, would slow her down or force her back out of her wolf form. She was too tired now, wasn’t sure she would be able to hold on to her other form if she shifted and the pain became too much.

Bear would easily catch her and she was starting to believe that his threats weren’t idle ones. He wasn’t trying to scare her. He was just speaking the truth. If she ran, he would catch her, and she would end up on the receiving end of the barely-leashed anger that had flashed in his eyes a moment ago.

When he had thought she was running from Archangel.

She had no love for the hunter organisation herself, but the spark of cold fire that had lit his eyes had made it clear that he despised Archangel and everyone in it, giving her the impression he’d had some bad personal experiences with them.

Really bad.

In her life, she had met a few people who had suffered at the hands of Archangel, whether it was through the hunters murdering family members during a raid or because they had taken them captive for a time.

None of them had looked fit to kill someone just because they thought they might be leading hunters from that organisation towards their home.

She wasn’t sure Bear believed her when she said she wasn’t involved with them, and she wasn’t sure he would believe a word she said if she did tell him why she was running. She wasn’t really sure of anything where this male was concerned. Something about him had her off-balance, had her acting out of character. She had been raised a good wolf, an obedient female despite her desire to break the invisible chains that bound her, keeping her in her place.

Something about Bear made her wild, feral, made it impossible to control herself. Headbutting him had been a terrible idea, and she had known it, but some part of her, some instinct deep within her, had pushed her to do it.

Had pushed her to push him.

She had never had a death wish before, but she felt certain this was what one felt like.

She meant to be calm and controlled around Bear, meant to do as he wanted and not incite him.

Only she kept ending up doing the opposite.

She huffed when all she saw were trees, trees and more trees. The night was a deep dark without a moon to brighten it, made it hard for her to make out anything beyond thirty or forty feet. If she ran, she could end up running straight off an earth cliff like the one she had been forced to scale before she had been caught in the trap. The last thing she needed was to hurt herself even worse than she already was.

What she really needed to do was heal, but that meant she needed time to rest, and that meant Carrigan would be closing the distance between them. Unless how dark it was tonight without the moon forced him to rest too. Trying to track her in the darkness would be difficult, even if he had her scent to follow. For all his faults, Carrigan was a shrewd male, one who might decide it was more sensible for him and his men to rest for the night to recover their strength and then pursue her at daybreak.

Which meant she might have until dawn before she had to make another run for it.

She glanced at the back of Bear’s head, at a small number and letter tattooed on his spine just above the collar of his black T-shirt.

082-B.

“Odd tattoo.” Her voice sounded loud in the darkness.

Bear’s shoulders stiffened and he tossed a black look at her before he faced front again.

And tugged on his T-shirt so the collar rose up enough to cover the tiny inked number and letter.

What did it mean? Did B stand for Bear?

She frowned as a possible explanation hit her. Was her theory that Bear had a bad history with Archangel right, and for some reason the hunter group had tattooed him with this number? She had never heard of Archangel marking non-humans in such a way, but maybe they did.

It would explain why he seemed so ashamed of it and hadn’t wanted her to see it.

She wanted to ask about it, that part of her that, for some godsdamned reason, wanted to provoke Bear mingling with the part of her that was curious about him. Only a cabin emerged from the gloom ahead of her, capturing her attention. Her pulse drummed faster, fear swift to shoot into her veins as she stared at the old, run-down log cabin and then at the back of Bear’s head.

Callie leaned back and tugged on his arm, trying to break free of his hold as fear got the better of her again, filled her mind with images she tried to shut out. Bear looked back at her, his dark eyebrows knitting hard above icy eyes.

Icy eyes that softened a little as they met hers. A mirage. She was imagining that slight thawing, that almost regretful edge they gained before they hardened again and he turned away from her.

“Not going to hurt you, Wolf.” His bass voice rolled over her, smooth and even, no trace of malevolence in it. “Just need to find us some shelter for the night. You can rest that leg while you answer my questions.”

The effect his words had on her was instantaneous. The fear that had blasted through her fell away, the images her tired mind was throwing at her swift to dissipate, and she relaxed a little as she hobbled along behind him. For all his glowering at her, his threats and his gruffness, Bear was a gentleman.

More so than the wolves in Carrigan’s pack anyway.

Gods, she hated how her short time there had coloured her opinion of all males, had made her expect every one of them to be like them—thinking they could just have any female they wanted, whether she wanted it or not.

She sighed.

Bear angled his head slightly towards her and then faced forwards. He took the steps up onto the rickety deck of the small cabin and opened the door while she mounted them behind him. She gripped the frame of the door as she followed him into the room, her hand trailing off it as she took in her surroundings and limped forwards.

Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, but she could make out a few things. Like the fact this cabin was tiny—one small room. No one had lived here in a long time either. There wasn’t even a kitchen. A few poorly constructed cabinets lined the wall to her right and there was a bench beneath the window near the door. The drapes were tattered and didn’t fully cover the window as Bear pulled them closed with one hand.

The fingers of his other hand slowly flexed around her wrist. For a cold bastard, he had warm hands. He helped her forwards, deeper into the room, and turned her and eased her down into a wooden chair. It creaked beneath her. Probably had woodworm or was so ancient it was going to turn to dust at any moment.

Bear released her, went to the door and closed it. He rifled through the cupboards. Looking for food? She didn’t even want to think about what he might find to eat in a place like this. She pulled a face at it as she took it in. Besides the log burner to her right, that had to be one of the first ever made, there was a small worn bed behind her that looked ready to collapse, and two more wooden chairs, both to her left.

Maybe she could help Bear out by getting a fire going. She didn’t want to alert Carrigan to her location, but she also didn’t want to freeze to death.

She went to move and Bear shot to his feet and pivoted to face her.

“Sit,” he growled and she glared at him.

Or more specifically, what he was holding in his right hand.

“Here I thought you were being civilised and nice by helping me to this chair.” Callie kept her eyes locked on the rope that dangled from his fingers. The urge to bolt was strong, but she kept her ass planted to the chair, aware that the only way out of the cabin was near Bear. “Is that really necessary?”

“I don’t trust you,” he gritted.

“I get the feeling you don’t trust anyone,” she countered and swallowed as he closed the distance between them in only two strides, came to tower over her, looming like a shadow in the darkness.

At least outside, the faint light of the stars had been enough to reveal his features to her, giving her a chance at knowing what he was thinking. As she stared up into the inky gloom at his face, her eyes adjusted to reveal it to her, but not as clearly as she had been able to see him outside. What she could make out about him didn’t help at all.

His rough features were a stony mask, his eyes revealing nothing to her.

He eased around behind her, grabbed her arms and tugged them back. Callie yanked her right one free, was tempted to elbow him in the groin, but stopped herself at the last second. Angering Bear wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Well, it wouldn’t get her anywhere other than dead.

He grabbed her arm again and she huffed as she forced herself to relax and let him have his way.

“This is a little unnecessary, isn’t it?” She couldn’t stop her mouth from running though, mostly because she wanted to make him feel terrible for how he was treating her. “I mean, you’ve pointed out plenty of times that I’m some weak little wolf who doesn’t stand a chance against you. Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

He scoffed. “No. Just being precautious.”

“Precautious? That’s a mighty big word. You sure you know what it means?” She angled her head towards him, regretted it when he stood and she got an eyeful of his crotch. Her gaze zipped to her knees and she wriggled her arms, gritted her teeth and growled as she tested her bonds. The bastard was good at tying people up.

“I know what it means.” He moved around her and dropped to his knees, his gaze on her ankles.

Callie kicked him in the chest, knocking him onto his backside, and scowled at him. “That’s not necessary!”

Bear growled, flashing huge fangs, the threat enough to have her locking up tight and behaving like a good little wolf.

He got back onto his knees and reached for her left ankle, and she panicked.

“At least tie them together,” she blurted, fear getting the better of her again.

His gaze collided with hers.

She knew when he had seen the fear in them, when he had realised why she was afraid of him tying one of her feet to each chair leg, because he averted his gaze, pushed to his feet and tossed the rope over the other chair instead. She breathed a little easier, her panic subsiding as Bear moved away from her, as he made it clear he wouldn’t tie her legs.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looked at everything but her, and she could sense the shift in his mood.

And then nothing.

She frowned at him as he went outside, leaving the door open, leaving her alone. How did he shut down his emotions like that? She thought about the tattoo on his nape and had the feeling his past had something to do with it, and also with the way he moved without giving away what he intended to do.

Bear stomped back into the room with an armful of wood, kicked the door closed behind him and sank down in front of the burner. He opened the door, placed the split logs inside, and got the fire going impressively quickly. He closed the door and pushed to his feet, coming to face her.

Firelight chased over him, casting shadows in the valleys between his honed muscles and around his eyes. Making him look every bit as dark and dangerous as she knew him to be.

“Why are you running?”

The same question he had asked her before.

“Can you just take me to your alpha?” She ignored the way his eyebrows knitted hard and fire flashed in his eyes, warning her that he didn’t like her questioning him. Or maybe he didn’t like that she wanted to meet his leader. “I mean, he can’t be any more unreasonable than you.”

“Just answer the question, Wolf.” He seemed quite determined to keep bringing up the fact she was a wolf.

“Answer my question, Bear.” Two could play at that game.

He changed the rules in his favour by coming to loom over her though, forcing her to tilt her head back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“You want me to change my mind and tie your legs too?” He glanced down at her right one. “Injury like that might heal tonight, fusing with the rope. That’ll hurt.”

She glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

The thought of having to pull a rope from her flesh sickened her, had her on the verge of answering his question, but she held her tongue. If she responded to his threats, he would keep on threatening her until he got all the answers he wanted. He would use her fear against her.

“I didn’t know this was Black Ridge territory. I’m just passing through and I don’t want to cause any trouble.” She tried to sound calm, but the twist to his lips said she hadn’t managed it.

“You’re not passing through anywhere. You’re running scared and I want to know if I’m about to have a whole troupe of hunters in my pride’s territory.”

“I told you, I’m not running from Archangel!” She lunged towards him, unable to stop herself as anger and fear flooded her, a heady combination that ripped a reaction from her.

His broad mouth twitched at the corners, as if he wanted to smile. “So you are running then.”

She wanted to curse him, wanted to curse herself too for giving that away. “Fine. I’m running. All you need to know is that the ones who are after me aren’t hunters. It isn’t Archangel. They’re not a threat to you—they’re a threat to me.”

His eyes rapidly darkened.

Made him look as if he wanted to find the ones who were after her and destroy them for her.

She was imagining that, seeing in his expression what she wanted to see, because she had no allies and she badly needed one. She told herself she would have one soon. She would get to the White Wolf pack, and Carrigan wouldn’t be able to touch her.

“You going to tell me who is after you?” Bear eased down into a crouch before her.

Callie was tempted to kick him again, even when it wouldn’t get her anywhere. “No. I don’t answer to you. You can’t make me talk.”

The cold smile that curved his lips said he could.

He wouldn’t.

She searched his eyes, hoping to see in them that he wouldn’t hurt her to get answers, but they were blank again, anything he was feeling buried under a layer of ice.

“Take me to your leader.” It was a risky move, but it couldn’t be worse than being alone in a cabin with Bear. The leader of his pride might be more reasonable, might treat her with a trace of civility and help her. She didn’t like bears, but she wasn’t dumb enough to turn down help from one. They were powerful, far stronger than wolves. Bear here could probably take on Carrigan and his men alone and decimate them all.

“I’ll do just that at daybreak if you haven’t answered my questions.” His glacial gaze didn’t sway from hers, held her fast and chilled her.

He wanted her to believe his leader was more dangerous than he was, which only made her feel that he wasn’t. Bear was the attack dog, rabid and wild, running down anything that entered his territory. His alpha was probably a reasonable male in comparison, used Bear as his enforcer rather than getting his own hands bloody.

It was worth the risk.

If it turned out she was wrong, then she would escape and run again.

“Thanks.” She eased back in her chair, relaxing and throwing Bear off his game, judging by how his dark eyebrows knitted hard and the corners of his mouth turned downwards.

“For what?”

She canted her head to her left and resisted the temptation to smile sweetly at him. “For letting me know exactly how long I need to be silent. Maybe I can squeeze in a nap. Do you think I have time?”

He scowled at her. “There’s a good seven hours between now and dawn. I’ll get you talking before then.”

“Be a dear and throw another log on the fire. It’s so chilly in here.” She pretended to shiver, hoping he got that she was taking a jab at his frigid personality.

He huffed and stood, towered over her and stared at her, his eyes revealing nothing. He remained like that for a solid ten minutes or more, until she began to feel uncomfortable and came dangerously close to talking just to break the tense silence.

Just when she thought he would ask her a question, he turned on his heel and walked away from her, yanked the door open and stepped out onto the deck. He stood with his back to her at the edge of the deck and tipped his head back. Looking at the stars? Or maybe asking his ancestors to give him the strength not to kill her. The second one sounded closer to something he might do. She doubted he admired the beauty of the heavens.

He was probably one of those males that didn’t see beauty in nature.

Who only saw beauty in things like fighting.

She had met a few wolves like that in her time at the pack, had grown up with two of them. They had laughed at her whenever she had talked about how beautiful the river looked as it sparkled or the sky looked as night fell and the stars emerged one by one. They had mocked her for watching the trout and salmon in the streams or studying hummingbirds and finding them all beautiful, together with nature itself.

They had told her that the only beauty in this world was in the fight. In the breaking of bones. In the shedding of blood. In the battle to live.

Bear struck her as that sort of male.

But as she stared at his back, as she thought about that number someone had inked on his skin, her anger towards him and her prejudices drifted to the back of her mind. There was a small, quiet part of her that whispered she shouldn’t judge him so harshly. She didn’t know him.

Words rose unbidden, ones that slipped from her despite her best efforts to hold them back.

They fell quietly in the night.

“Were you the eighty-second bear they had captured?”

He turned on a roar.

Slammed the cabin door in her face.