Love at First Roar (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Werebear Romance) (Grayslake Book 4) (2 page)

“I don’t understand, though. You’re the Alpha’s
daughter
. Why are you running away? If you’d just…”

The next sound was a heavy thud, and she wondered if that was her couch or her dining room table slamming onto the hundred-year-old wood floors.

Nope, no tears, but maybe a pity party was okay. A big one. Huge even. A ginormous of gigalactious proportions pity party of the millennium was totally called for.

Because, really,
saying
she wasn’t going to take anyone’s crap was not the same as actually
not
taking anyone’s crap. Even though she left her old pack behind, the residual effects of their abuse still lingered. She was prey, she couldn’t ever forget that.

“Being the Alpha’s daughter doesn’t make me dominant. Are you forgetting my other half?” The half that had her running and scurrying whenever a wolf trotted past or they pushed her around. “That’s what I live with, Zoey. That’s the reason I couldn’t stay. I don’t have fangs and claws like the rest of the pack.” Okay, she sorta did, on a much smaller scale. They weren’t enough to scare anyone, least of all a werewolf. “I couldn’t fight back and I got tired of struggling to stay alive.”

She was so very tired.

“Did you hafta go so far, though?” her friend whined, and Kira wondered if the woman was a werewolf or a big baby.

Another crash was followed by more shattering of glass except this time the sound wasn’t muffled by a box. Dear God, what did they break now?

Zoey sniffled as if she was crying and Kira knew that was the furthest from the truth. The woman was trying to play on Kira’s people-pleaser half. Not happening.

“Yes, I did,” she snapped, hating that she’d turned into an über bitch. “We talked about this. You helped me do this.”

Kira never would have gotten away without Zoey’s help.

“I know, I just…”

God, she loved Zoey more than life itself, but she couldn’t deal with this bout of “woe is me.” Not when she had so much going on at that moment. Later, Zoey would apologize. Her friend would remember how many times she’d patched Kira up and how many times Kira had edged too close to death for anyone’s comfort.

“Alpha was never any help.
Ever
. Which means if
he
,” Kira hated, hated, hated that male. “If
he
got his hands on me, there’s no telling how far he would go. You’ve seen the damage, Zoey.” Her best friend had seen a little. Kira tried to shield the spunky she-wolf from the worst. “For once in my life, I’m thinking of me.” Kira’s heart thudded and pumped, threatening to burst from her chest. Anger coursed through her. Outright
anger
.

“Rawr, bitch—”

Kira tore the phone from her ear and pressed the button to end the call. Maybe tomorrow she could laugh and joke with Zoey.

She tucked the cell in her pocket and pushed away from the wall. The men were outside, grunting and groaning with a dash of grumbling as they grabbed more of her stuff. The half of her that was patient and kind warred with the ferocity of her inner-animal because that bit of her wanted to go rabid on their asshole asses.

Unfortunately, they were at least a foot taller and a good fifty pounds heavier than she was. Plus, well, they were werebears.

Short, fluffy Kira was no match for them. Hell, even in her shifted form, the most she could do was nibble on them and then dig and hide.

I am weremole, hear me run for my life.

Shaking her head, she made her way down the nearby hallway, running her fingers over the aged wallpaper and smiling at the thump of her shoes on the worn wood. History surrounded her, the past welcoming her in its embrace.

Her dog’s repetitive barks drew her, the animal’s attempts at protecting her easily heard. He was a wonderful, adorable, shitty guide dog. But he was hers. And he probably would be a great guide if she took the time to train with him. Except… she liked him the way he was. She didn’t want him to become something he wasn’t, didn’t want to mold him into what she desired or what was expected.

She’d had enough of that in life. She wasn’t about to inflict it on another being.

Ignoring yet another crashing thump, she tugged on the back door and the dog’s barks immediately transformed from threatening woofs to happy cries. His approach was unmistakable, the scramble of clawed feet on grass and then weathered wood easily discernible from the rest of the world.

Kira crouched and held her arms wide as the blur of her pup ran to her. She supposed she had to be thankful for some things and the fact she was only partially blind was a blessing. Colorful blurs marked her world, allowing her to get around on her own. Mostly.

A wet tongue lapped at her, coating her face in dog saliva, and she nudged him away. “Hey, now, quit it.”

He woofed and paused in his attentions, the animal’s fun loving personality quickly shifting to enraged and protective in an instant.

A low growl came from her dog, rumbling and vibrating through her, and she took in a deep breath, sorting through the scents. The pup obviously objected to whoever was behind her and she needed to know who she faced.

The first inhale brought the stink of sweat and unwashed skin coupled with a good dose of anger that was quickly transforming into rage.

Could her day get any worse?

Kira pushed to her feet, intent on facing off with the male. God only knew what his problem was, but she wouldn’t face it on her knees.

Spinning, she came face to chest with one of the males. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he sniffed, and she bit her tongue. Blatantly scenting someone was just
rude
. Sure, she did the same, but she was
half blind
. “Yeah, you can help me.”

She couldn’t see his expression, but his scent was unmistakable.
Lust
. She fought back the threatening panic. There was no reason to worry. She was in a crowded neighborhood and the woman across the street was nosy as hell and had been spying on Kira’s house. Well, she assumed it was spying. Otherwise, she merely liked to sit at her front window a lot. Like, all day.

He sniffed again. “You can help me real good.”

He reached down and his gesture was unmistakable. The man rubbed his crotch, and she managed to keep her shudder of revulsion under wraps.

Yeah, she couldn’t help him at all.

Her dog snarled, darting forward and snapping his teeth.

“What the fuck is wrong with your fuck—”

“Tommy Taylor, I know I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.” The feminine voice was quick and sharp, cutting through his words like a knife. “Because by my last count you already owe the swear jar over a thousand dollars.”

The change in the male was instantaneous. All hints of lust and arousal disappeared in the wake of those words and fear moved into place.

Fear.

The man stepped back, putting several feet between their bodies while also allowing Kira to get a look at the newcomer. The woman was short, as short as she was and appeared to be as curvy, as well.

Kira glanced at the large male easing farther away and deeper into her kitchen as if to put even more distance between him and the newcomer.

Whoever put that bolt of terror zinging through the man before her was a woman Kira wanted to get to know. How did she do that and was it teachable?

Inquiring, pussyfooted, cowering minds wanted to know.

The woman focused on the mover for a moment longer before she turned that attention on Kira. She strode forward, arm outstretched. The aromas of happiness and welcome filled the air. “Hi, I’m Mia. Welcome to Grayslake.”

For the first time since she’d begun this wild relocation across the country, Kira smiled. And meant it. Because in the wake of the woman’s welcoming words, some of Kira’s old self emerged, the part of her that smiled and laughed and loved life.

And when Mia hugged her hard, squeezing her until she thought her bones would break, Kira realized she would be okay. That everything would be okay.

Isaac grimaced at the stacks of boxes littering the house. As a Healer who worked in a sterile environment more often than not… this was not okay.

He’d only been on his own a year, and still he’d managed to collect so much
stuff
. When he came back to town, the clan den hadn’t been big enough for both him and Ty’s little family. Moving into Mia’s grandfather’s home had been the answer. The place was old, but gorgeous with its hand-carved banister and doorframes. The worn spots on the floor at the bottom of the stairs represented years of running cubs while a large discoloration in the dining room spoke of messy kids eating breakfast.

It was a house built to be filled with a happy couple and children. Which was good since he’d soon be moving out and leaving it empty for a to-be-found happy couple and children.

With a shake of his head, he dispelled the pang of loss in his heart. He needed to think positively and not worry about everything he’d be leaving. He had another six weeks of packing and organizing to do before he moved. Between working at the local werebear clinic and volunteering his time at the human hospital, he didn’t have much time to prepare. He needed to snatch every available moment.

Isaac snared another folded box and opened the stiff square. It took no time to make the appropriate folds and slap tape on the seams. With most of the living room done and the dining room empty, he headed to the kitchen. The worn wood floor was cool beneath his feet, smooth from decades of use.

History, the house had a truck full of history, and for a moment he wished he weren’t leaving. There was so much to explore, so much to do to restore the old place until it looked almost new. It was always something he’d wanted to do—each time he found a new dent in the plaster or a jiggling step.

God, when did he become so attached to a house that didn’t even belong to him?

Probably about the same time he realized he was ready to settle down and have a family. The same time he envisioned raising his family in this house.

On the heels of those dreams came yet another female’s rejection. He had to accept that Grayslake wasn’t home any longer.

Huffing, he went into the kitchen and placed the box on the table before moving toward the cabinets. He had so many different pots and pans—it was ridiculous. But he used each one. Maybe not every day, but who knew when he’d have a craving for fresh pasta or homemade marinara? Whenever that happened, he’d have the right tool.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in the monotony of packing, wrapping glass pans, and placing packing paper between metal ones. Of course, the whole process would go quicker if he had one of his brothers or their mates at his side. Hell, he’d even take his interfering mother and gruff father.

Too bad they were all “busy.”

Busy showing their disapproval.

Dammit.

Isaac paused for a moment and breathed deeply, ignoring the small ache in his chest. His inner bear helped soothe the pain. It knew the truth just as his human mind did, and both parts of him were in agreement. They wanted a family, they wanted a mate and cubs and everything that came with being a good mate and father.

He delved deeper into one of the corner cabinets, cursing the person who’d designed them so deep. Isaac wasn’t a small man and sure as hell wasn’t designed for crawling that far into a wood framed hole. Of course, he was pretty damned sure his favorite cast-iron skillet had wiggled just out of reach.

Bastard piece of metal.

“Hello?” A sweet feminine voice drifted to him, sliding through the quiet of his house.

He jerked in surprise and banged his head on the underside of the drawer above him.

“Dammit.” He eased back, rubbing his skull the moment he was clear. The bear was quick to heal him and brush away the ache, but it couldn’t banish the owner of the voice.

“Heellloooo?” The word was drawn out into a faux howl. “I’m speaking, are you listening?”

He didn’t recognize the voice’s owner, but that didn’t mean much. He kept to himself for the most part and Ty welcomed other bears to the clan here and there. Plus the hyena’s poison hadn’t stopped at his skin. No, it’d dug deeper, stroking his mind and his memory wasn’t what it once was. A beast could only heal so much when faced with the devastating toxin, and he’d been too intent on healing—

A gasp came from the other room before a heavy thud accompanied by the tinkling of glass reached him. “Shit, that sounds expensive. You’d think you’d pay better attention, Kira.”

The scrape of shuffling steps reached him and Isaac pushed to his feet, shoving the half-filled box out of his way. It was obvious the woman wasn’t leaving, so he’d give her a reason to. One quick look at his face and then she would scamper back the way she came. He didn’t have a humped back or scarring like the Phantom of the Opera, but it repulsed the women in his clan, so it would get this stranger to run, too.

He retraced his earlier path, passing the corner where the wallpaper peeled and the spot where it’d faded until pure white. He would have hunted new paper, one original to the age of the house, and redone the smooth surface. The old girl deserved a face-lift.

Instead…

Another tumbling crash reached him and he growled, the bear along with him. He didn’t have a lot of expensive belongings, but—cheap or not—they were his, dammit. The least the stranger could do was keep her house-trashing hands to herself.

Isaac rounded the last corner, striding into the entryway. He passed the open front door and headed into the living room, more smashes reaching out to him.

“Dammit. Shit. Oh, that one was really expensive,” she muttered. “I am the biggest ass known to ass-dom. Just stop moving and wait. Did you learn anything from your friggin’ movers? Obviously not.”

Isaac slid to a silent stop, freezing and simply staring at the muttering woman before him. She wasn’t familiar, that much he knew. He would remember that ass, the trim waist that led to wide hips and the sleek line of her back. Deep brown curls nearly reached the top curve of her butt and… damn. Just… damn.