Read The Winter Bear's Bride (Dubious Book 2) Online

Authors: Mina Carter

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages)

The Winter Bear's Bride (Dubious Book 2)

The Winter Bear’s Bride

Mina Carter

 

To stop a war, she must become his.

 

Analise, daughter of the Bear Elder, has status and luxury, though she’s a prisoner of her birth and despised by her father because she’s not the alpha son he needs. She keeps her head down and hoards lost knowledge that nearly destroyed the planet. She dreams of escape, but her father decides it's time for her to marry.

 

He's hated her and all she represents for years. But once he meets her...

 

Scar, rebel leader and were-polar bear, wants nothing more than to burn the clan system to the ground. It's cruel, unfair, and dedicated to keeping most of the populace in its place. To do so, he needs to take out the Bear Elder and his scheming daughter. As soon as he sees the delicate beauty of his enemy, though, all he can think of is making her his. And he's prepared to go to war to do so.

 

Not all battles need to be fought in the field. Some are of the heart and the mind and he intends to win hers, whatever it takes. Trouble is, what it takes might be all he has.

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.

THE WINTER BEAR’S BRIDE

Dubious Series

Copyright © 2016 MINA CARTER

ISBN: 978-1-943576-76-0

All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684
www.allromanceebooks.com

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First All Romance eBooks publication: April 2016

Chapter One

“Whether you like
it or not, Analise, you will marry and ensure the continuation of our bloodline,” Magnus,
alpha
of the Asmundr clan and Elder of all the bear
clans
, bellowed loud enough to rattle the hall windows. “Do you understand me?”

Analise stood before the dais and throne-like chair that marked her father’s status as alpha, gritted her teeth and answered with a nod. There was nothing else she could do. Her father ruled the clans with an iron rod, and argument was not tolerated. Ever.

Duty, honor and sacrifice
.

The words had been drilled into her relentlessly from the day she’d been born. The day her mother had died giving birth to her. In one fateful moment, she’d not only stolen his wife, but also a bear-mate, one of the few women capable of bearing him an alpha son. He’d never forgiven her for that.

“Speak up, girl!” Magnus roared. The guards who flanked the dais looked ahead. All bears, they were used to their alpha’s rage and volume. There would be no help from that quarter. None of them would risk incurring her father’s wrath. Not for her.

“Yes, Father. I understand.”

The words were dust in her mouth and her stomach churned. She’d always known she would have to marry one day; she just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Most of the time her father ignored her existence as long as the holding ran smoothly and when he did notice her, his disdain was apparent. It didn’t help that she was small and slight. Her appearance, though, had its advantages. Most people assumed she was years younger than she was. Being called a “girl” had gone from being an insult to a cloak to hide behind.

She’d thought she had years yet before her father realized she was of marriageable age. Years to study the books their ancestors had brought from the south lands after the wars and learn something useful. Years to learn how to survive in the snowy wastes outside the thick walls of the stronghold so that one day she could make her escape.

But she didn’t have years after all. She had to marry, and that marriage would not be of her choosing. Her father would trade her in marriage to further the clan’s interests and his own agenda.

Taking a deep breath, she ignored the crushing disappointment. Her happiness was not a consideration. It never had been.

“Good!” Magnus levered himself out of his chair, stomping down the steps to tower over her.

She looked up at him, her expression carefully neutral. Not too happy, but not cold. She’d perfected the look years ago. Nothing that could be considered insolent or anything other than the perfectly dutiful daughter in any way.

“The ball will begin at nine,” he rumbled, reaching out and gripping her chin in one massive hand.

It hurt, but she fought back the wince. She’d learned not to show any kind of pain to her father. Pain was a weakness, and he did not tolerate weakness. From anyone… A face flashed across her mind’s eye—a boy’s face, twisted in pain as he held his arm close to his chest. Ruthlessly, she shoved the memory back into the box in her mind from which it had escaped.

“All the clan alphas will be here, along with their heirs.” He turned her chin this way and that, studying her face like a buyer would a horse. “You’re small and weak, not like your mother—she was a real bear woman—but hopefully one of them will find you attractive enough to bed at least once to get me an heir.”

Her cheeks burned. She was aware she was smaller than other women in the clan. Bear women tended to be tall and sturdily built. Big, strong women who could withstand the harsh conditions of their snowy home. The weak did not survive in the Arctic Circle for long. Plus, she wasn’t a shifter, but not many females were. Anger surged for a moment before she beat it back down again. That fact hadn’t stopped her father seeing that as yet another of her failings.

“I expect you to be nice to them,” he warned. “And for snow’s sake, make yourself presentable. Perhaps if we load you with enough jewels, then they’ll overlook…everything else.”

“Yes, Father.” The safest answers were always short ones. “May I be excused to get ready?”

The ball was still hours away, but she recognized the gleam in her father’s eye. Unless she did something, this little conversation would escalate into a full-scale post-mortem of her many failings. And once he got up to full steam, a lecture like that could take hours.

“Hmmmm. I suppose so.”

He let her go, shoving her face away. It was a small movement for the big werebear, but it made her stagger backward. Quickly, she righted herself. Thank snow she hadn’t fallen. Nothing would have stopped the lecture if she had given such a visible demonstration of her weakness.

“Make sure to be on time tonight. If you know what’s good for you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Without another word, she turned and, back straight, walked from the room with as much dignity as she could muster. The roar of ribald laughter behind her told her that her father had already forgotten her existence and was laughing and joking with his men.

A mix of anger and pain filled her as she trudged down the corridor toward her room. Sometimes she wished he’d decide she was too weak and pathetic and throw her out into the snow. It surprised her that he hadn’t cast her out as a baby when it became apparent she was sickly and not worth the effort of raising her. But daughters could be married off, and her father was all about the advantages.

“It’s so romantic…” A voice echoed from the corridors ahead of her, and she turned the corner to find two maids cleaning silverware. “You know they say their alpha, Scar, is the long-lost son of the Osbjorn clan. A true alpha. Handsome, too…”

“And how would you know that, Kela? Like you’ve seen him.”

“The Einar rode through my cousin Jessian’s village a couple of weeks ago. She saw him through the window. Said he was so handsome half the women in the village fainted on the spot, and the other half wanted to bear his cubs.”

As soon as they saw her, both women ceased their chatter, watching as she walked past. Analise didn’t give any indication she’d heard them, keeping her head high and her hands folded lightly in front of her. She also ignored the whispers that started up behind her.

The servants always gossiped, especially about the rogue clan who had set up home in the southern wastes. Comprised of outcasts and rebels, they’d gained the usual romantic reputation those who went against the establishment normally did. And it didn’t hurt that their leader, Scar, was mysterious and apparently charismatic and handsome. Like everyone else, she listened to the rumors and rooted for them, even though she knew as soon as Scar and his band became too much of a problem, her father would mass an army and wipe them out.

She had more things to worry about than gossip. The midsummer ball was the highlight of the clans’ social calendar, so all the clans would be in attendance. That her father had invited potential suitors for her hand was no surprise; many matings were arranged at midsummer. So much so, it was often known as the marriage ball, and young girls looked forward to it all year. They prayed for time to move faster so they could don the white ball gown of a marriageable maid and get their moment in the spotlight.

Not her. As far as she was concerned, midsummer could be months away still. She bent her head, her hair falling forward to cover her expression as she reached her room and pushed open the door. Slipping inside, she leaned against the wood and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror opposite.

Pushing away, she walked toward it on silent feet. Petite and slender, she was as far from the ideal of werebear beauty as was possible. Even her hair marked her as different…blonde hair was a rarity in the Arctic Circle.

Reaching up, she pulled the gown down her shoulder. The skin was pale, but not unmarked. Her shoulder was decorated by three lines, jagged and uneven, similar to the scars a bear’s claws would make in flesh. It was the symbol of a bearmate and marked her as one of the rare women who could give birth to an alpha. When she’d been born, it had saved her from the icy fate usually meted out to the weak, but now it was something more…

It was her prison.

 

****

 

The ballroom was
alive with music and laughter, but all Analise wanted to do was escape. Even the bitter cold of the arctic snow outside was better than being paraded like a broodmare in front of the alpha’s of the other clans.

“She’s a little on the skinny side,” her father’s voice boomed out, almost drowning the sound of the music. “But she’s as healthy as a walrus.”

He nudged her with his elbow, a silent demand for her to pay attention. She kept the maelstrom of seething anger inside and smiled obediently at her father’s companions. Karl, alpha of the Brynjar, was tall and so lean he reminded her of a cadaver. A shock of white hair was smoothed across his nearly bald pate, and the attempt at deception would have been amusing if not for the hard black eyes that surveyed her like she was a piece of meat. She fought back a shiver, not liking the way he looked at her at all.

Karl shrugged. “Eh, he only has to stick his dick in her a couple of times to get her with cubs. Not like he can’t find a more appealing armful to keep him warm on a cold night, is it, Brok?” He elbowed his son, who stood next to him.

Brok Brynjar was as tall and thin as his father, if a little heavier across the shoulders. His hair was dark brown, rather than white, but already it had begun to recede at the hairline. With his pale skin, it made him appear more like a vampire than a werepolar. He flicked a glance up and down her.

“As long as she has the mark, I don’t care.” He sniffed dismissively and looked away around the hall. His gaze lingered on a gaggle of young women near the large hearth. Dressed like Analise in white floor-length gowns, they were giggling and looking his way, obviously discussing him. A grin split his lips and he offered them a wave back, which sent at least three into near hysterics.

Ice settled in Analise’s heart as she folded her hands neatly in front of her. She could see her future already. Married off to Brok or someone like him. Forced to share a bed, have sex with a man she didn’t love to bear a cub, then she’d be farmed out to some remote holding somewhere, rarely to be seen or heard of again. If she was lucky. If her husband really disliked her, he’d force her to remain within clan society and watch as he paraded mistress after mistress in front of her. All proper, real bear women who could incite a man’s lust and love for her.

Weak, pathetic, useless…
Her father’s taunts down the years rang in her ears and at each one, she straightened her back that little bit more, forcing steel into her spine. She might not be able to get out of her fate, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let it beat her or break her. She was made of stronger stuff than that.

You are beautiful just as you are.

Carefully, she pulled another voice from her memory, cracking the door it was kept behind with the utmost care so the other memories it was associated with, the ones she wasn’t strong enough to handle at the moment, didn’t escape as well.

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