Love at First Roar (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Werebear Romance) (Grayslake Book 4) (11 page)

She snarled and snapped at him while he did the same, sinking his teeth into her forearm when she batted at him and digging into her snout when she attempted to bite his.

Vanessa growled, pushing and scraping in an attempt to dislodge him, but he refused to relent, refused to allow this female to get away with attempting to kill Kira.

It would have meant his little mole’s death. She’d been shifted, probably in an attempt to dig her way to safety. Based on the condition of the yard, she’d tried hard to run and Vanessa was relentless in her pursuit.

A scrape of claws down his side, her back nails digging into his flesh, had him releasing a bellowing roar. The following burn, the one that seared his veins and sent throbbing pain into his bones, was both familiar and hated.

She deserved to die now. His bear would have been content with Ty punishing her after Isaac got in a strike or two to avenge Kira’s pain and fear. Now he knew the truth of the woman’s intent.

If Vanessa’s physical attack hadn’t killed Kira, the poison coating her claws would have done the job.

It was a burning, deadly toxin that left hideous scars in its wake. One Isaac once felt pulsing through his veins while he healed and patched up other bears and wolves suffering the same fate as him.

The red haze of fury and rage blanketed his vision, dropping like a blood-lusting cascade of silken fabric across his eyes. The agony assaulting him was what his Kira would have endured, the pain unending until it was neutralized and purged from the body.

Isaac had a specific purging in mind. One that didn’t involve Kira and was meant for Vanessa.

He bellowed again, announcing his plans to the world. It would take one more swipe, on more bite to her throat, and the threat to his little mole would be at an end.

Yes.
The bear urged him.
Now.

It craved the she-bear’s blood and he couldn’t blame the animal.

“Isaac!” The female’s voice was known to him, but he needed to keep his attention on Vanessa.

“Dammit, Isaac!” That male was familiar as well. Mated, but still a threat to his connection to Kira.

The bear’s possessiveness flooded him, battling with the desire to kill the bitch beneath him. Vanessa still struggled, scraping and cutting, and filling him with more of the deadly poison. He’d taken more into his body before. More and he’d survived.

“Isaac, stop!” The woman again.

Movement to his left had him tearing his attention from his prey with a snarl as he bared his teeth at the interloper. Only the sound died and delved back into his chest. She stood there, his Kira, naked and shaking. Dirt clung to her pale skin and those haunting blue eyes shined with tears.

“Please, stop.”

Another movement. The male. He stood too close to his Kira.

The she-bear beneath him moved, raising her head toward him, fangs dripping with blood and saliva and aimed for his neck.

A roar, filled with every emotion living inside his heart, pierced the bright sky, echoing and vibrating the air surrounding them.

“
Isaac
!” The female again. Intruding. Interrupting.

He didn’t want any distractions. He needed to end the threat to Kira and then hide her pale body from view. Another struggling squirm came from the she-bear and he raised his paw, claws ready to dig into flesh a final time. He had a plan now. Kill. Protect. Care.

Kill Vanessa.

Protect Kira from view.

Care for Kira.

“Isaac!” The bellow was deep and powerful and stronger than his own.

He brushed it aside. Despite the power, he was owed reparation and he would have his hundred pounds of flesh. The woman tried to hurt Kira. Why did no one understand that?

“Dammit, boy!” That strength he recognized. It rang through his mind, his bear immediately reacting to the words. They were ones he’d grown up with, ones that had both parts of him cringing the instant the tone met his ears.

Father Bear.

Males entered his vision. Large and intimidating. But not to him. No, the she-bear recoiled from the dominance that now enveloped them.

“Let her go.” Ty. Brother Bear.

“Now, Isaac Jericho.” Papa Bear. It was his turn to flinch.

Ty crouched beside him. “Let Vanessa go. I have her.”

Isaac growled, curling his lip. He didn’t want to release the bitch. No, he wanted to finish what he’d started.

“Dammit, boy. Kira needs you now. Ty and I have this one. You go care for her.”

He released a rumbling growl. No. They were taking his retribution from him.

“Your woman is naked and Keen is standing not ten feet from her.” Ty thumped him and he snapped at the retreating fist. “You want him to go after your girl?”

Narrowing his eyes, he sought out Kira with his gaze and found his brother spoke the truth. Keen was easing closer to his woman. His nude woman. The male was mated to Trista, but… Kira was beautiful. Definitely more so than Trista.

He snarled at his brother and father before pushing Vanessa aside, vengeance forgotten in the face of Kira being lured away from him. He closed the distance with rapid ease, nudging Kira back while putting his massive bulk between her and Keen.

No one should see her nude. No one. Hell, not even him until he had her permission to look, kiss, and touch.

The crack and snap of bone had him looking toward his father and brother, the two men keeping an eye on Vanessa as she shifted. By the time the final muscles settled into place, the woman was a dirt-covered, blood-strewn, sobbing mess. She babbled and cried, pointing at him as she accused him of attacking her and trying to kill her for no reason.

The trio all stared at him, his brother with speculation, his father with exasperation and annoyance from the female’s words.

A glance at Keen showed he didn’t believe Vanessa’s lies.

Maybe Brother Bear Keen wasn’t all bad. But his Kira was still nude.

“Isaac, shift back.” His father gave no room for argument.

Which was fine. Isaac wasn’t arguing, he simply wasn’t going to listen. Not when the only thing keeping them from seeing Kira’s nude form was his bulk.

Ty growled at him, but the human sounds were far from threatening. “Shift. Back.”

Screw their orders, and fuck the pain assaulting him from Vanessa’s poison-laced attack, he was not exposing his woman.

His father sighed and shook his head before reaching for the buttons of his shirt. “He’s not gonna do anything while she’s nude. You know better than that, Ty.”

In no time, Dad was bare chested and slowly padding forward, his steps quiet. Isaac fought back the urge to release a warning growl to the older man. Dad was mated to Mom and wasn’t one to stare at other women. They’d been together for years. He was a safe male. The thoughts spun through his head as the feet separating them lessened and he stopped with a handful of feet separating them.

“I’m going to lean over you and hand her my shirt.” Dad was smart, approaching with caution but without fear.

Isaac nodded and kept an eye on the male’s movements. Kira pressed into his side, gasping when she encountered one of his seeping wounds. He swallowed the snarl that filled his chest. More pain assaulted him, emanating from the wound and beating at all the others. No, he kept the sounds of pain at bay.

The soft rustling of cloth had him focusing on her, watching her slow and careful movements as she donned Dad’s shirt. He hated another male’s scent on her, but it couldn’t be helped.

The moment the final button was fastened, he let his shift wash over him, the bear readily sliding to the back while his human half pushed forward. They knew that healing couldn’t happen on four legs. No, he needed his hands to wash the wounds and thread the needles that would put him together again. The pain was reminiscent of the agony he’d experienced over a year ago, his blood on fire and killing him slowly. At least this time he only had to worry about healing himself. There was no concern for others while he was eaten alive by poison and pain.

The torturous sensations of his bear’s recession pulsed through his body, beating in time with the pounding of his heart.

The only thing that kept him sane was the feeling of Kira’s palm on his flesh, the warmth of her fingers stroking his skin until he knelt on the disturbed dirt of her lawn. He panted and heaved, fighting for breath, battling to move past the stench of blood and toxins until he found the sweetness of her. He focused on that aroma, on the calm it brought forward. He was not fully soothed, not in the least, but he was no longer craving Vanessa’s death with every ounce of blood in his veins.

He could wait an hour or two for that. First, he needed to care for his woman.

Isaac pushed to his knees and turned his attention to her, noting the dirt marring her nose and the scratches that decorated her face. New rage assaulted him, but he tamped it down. He had to take the time to count the number of injuries Vanessa still deserved. Arms covered by his father’s shirt, he continued his inspection at her knees, seeing past the mud and earth and on to the bruises and scratches that lingered.

She reached for him, hand trembling, and he noted the blood and the way her nails were ragged and torn.

She’d fought. Run. Tried to dig and hide.

A whimper from his left reminded him of Vanessa’s presence, of the woman who’d caused Kira pain. The she-bear was dead. She just didn’t know it yet.

Kira trembled, shaking from fear and anger in equal measure. If she were stronger, larger, and fiercer, she’d kill the were-bitch. But she wasn’t.

So instead, she followed a limping Isaac into her home, swallowing the sobs that threatened to burst free from her chest. Not in pain, the wounds Vanessa caused were nothing compared to what she’d endured through the years in her father’s pack. No, the desperate need to cry was on Isaac’s behalf. She wasn’t able to inspect the deep gouges in his skin and flesh, but the large swaths of red told her enough.

The tumble and roll of two brown-furred bodies shocked her, the ground shaking and trembling beneath the onslaught of Isaac and Vanessa’s battle. Then the scent of blood and… something deeper had filled her nose.

A scent she knew well.

Isaac slowly shuffled toward her back porch and she remained close in his wake, unwilling to let him out of her sight. When they passed by the first male who’d joined them, Isaac snarled. The stranger backed away, arms raised. The man reminded her of Isaac, the scent close, but not quite a perfect match for the man she followed.

A brother? A brother, yet Isaac voiced a warning.

He had three and she already recognized Ty, the Itan, nearby. George was there as well. So, Keen or Van.

The other aroma that clung to the mystery male was of one of the women she met at the barbeque. He was mated. Trista? Was that her name? So, Keen which meant that Van was dealing with the were-bitch.

He gripped the stair railing, the wood creaking beneath his hold, and she was quick to step around him and race for the door. She was thankful she’d spent the week acclimating herself to her new home. She knew her house now, knew where to find the things she’d need. She couldn’t stitch him up, not with her blurred sight, but she could end the pain that wracked his body.

The heavy tread of the other males followed their progress, but she didn’t have time to worry about strangers in her house moving things around and turning her space into a minefield of accidents and pain.

Isaac came first.

“George, are you in here?” she called back to Isaac’s father, knowing the man would help. More than anything, she knew of his tolerance and patience when it came to women. Meg was a formidable force.

A grunt was her answer.

“Take him to the top of the stairs, last door on the left. Get the water running. Cold. Not even a hint of heat.” She strode into her kitchen, confident in her movements.

She bent over and snared her two largest pitchers from one of the lower cabinets. When she straightened, she noticed no one had moved. No one followed her directions.

Oh, screw that. She might not know a lot about a lot of things, but this… She knew more about this than she ever cared to.

“Is there a problem?” she snapped, uncaring that she spoke to the Itan and his father. Not to mention Keen, the clan’s Keeper. He didn’t make the laws, but he sure as hell knew each one.

The red-covered male swayed and she spouted orders again. “Get him upstairs. Start the shower. Cold. Don’t put him in it yet. I’m following you.”

“Kira?” Isaac’s voice was thread and hoarse.

“We don’t have time for this.” She glared in George’s general direction. She understood their worry for Isaac, and she accepted that he was the clan’s Healer. If anyone should give orders about medical care, it’d be him. Except she knew they were working on borrowed time. “Do you want him to live? Do you want him to thrive? Because right now, you’re killing him.”

She ignored the anger and worry assaulting her and simply returned to her task. If they wouldn’t help her, she’d drag Isaac’s ass to the shower herself. She was small, but she had pure rage and adrenaline on her side.

She flung open one of the upper cabinets and spied the orange-yellow boxes she needed. It wasn’t just tinkling bells that she stockpiled. It’d only taken one experience for her to learn that baking soda needed to be a well-stocked staple in the Kolanowski household.

Without missing a beat, she snared one of her kitchen chairs, placed it near the counter and crawled atop it. She grabbed two boxes and then glanced at Isaac before snaring a third.

Kira hopped down and tossed the boxes inside one of the empty pitchers. She strode forward, hand outstretched for Isaac.

“What are you doing?” Ty took a step toward her, his massive bulk overshadowing her. His concern and anger hit her hard, but she didn’t give a damn.

She took a deep breath and fought for calm. It didn’t work. Her mole was freaking the fuck out because Isaac was not only hurt, but was injured while defending them. He was theirs now and these males were keeping her from caring for him.