Chapter 2 Toward the Crown
Feather had been trying for the past two years to get a shifter, werewolf or werebear, to bite and change her, and she was getting desperate to make it happen. Although Jenny had tried telling her that being a shifter wasn’t so great, Feather hadn’t believed her. Which made sense because Jenny loved what she was and wouldn’t have wanted to be anything other than a werebear.
She kept looking. What if Feather really had gone off with someone? Should she stick around and wait for her to come back? But that could mean hanging around for hours, if not all night. If she wasn’t back before her curfew, her father would come looking for her. He’d sniff her down even in the middle of nowhere. And if he found her on werewolf land at a werewolf party, she could kiss her freedom good-bye. The next few months would be spent at home or at the co-op school for werebears. Even Feather wouldn’t be allowed to visit her.
Damn it, Feather, where are you?
She was searching so intently that she didn’t notice a couple of girls staring at her. Getting on top of the barrels had made looking for her friend easier, but it had also made her more conspicuous. By the time she realized her mistake, it was too late.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
At first, she hoped the pretty blonde werewolf wasn’t talking to her. “Are you deaf, werebear? I asked you what you’re doing here.” Werebear. Damn. The girl knew.
She was caught, but she still tried to get out of it. “Who, me?”
Yeah, like they can’t tell what I am.
“A werebear? She’s a fucking werebear?” The pimply-faced boy standing next to the pretty blonde pointed at her. “Holy shit. Talk about balls. You’ve got guts showing up at our party.”
With a screech, the music playing from two speakers resting on the outskirts of the group came to an ear-splitting stop.
“Why is a werebear crashing our party? Huh? What the hell, bitch?”
Other calls erupted around her as the rest of the group soon caught on to what was going down. The crowd, angry faces glaring at her, inched closer. Her perch on top of the barrels had now become her prison. She was trapped as the teens circled around her.
“Answer up, werebear. Why are you here?” A tall boy pushed through the crowd and came closer, getting within a foot of her. He was old enough to have heavy stubble running along his jawline. His dark eyes blazed with flecks of amber, showing his wolf rising to the surface.
“I—I just came—” At that moment, she wasn’t sure why’d she’d come. The idea had been Feather’s, but she should’ve known it would cause trouble. “I mean, I just wanted to see—”
“To see what, little bear?” His mean grin warped into a sneer, all too reminiscent of a wolf’s snarl. “To see how the better half lives?”
His joke wasn’t very funny, but the others laughed like crazy. Fear seized her as she scanned the group, once more trying to find her friend. But what would Feather be able to do? She couldn’t help her. In fact, she might end up getting hurt, too.
“My name isn’t little bear. It’s Jenny. Jenny Monroe.” “I don’t give a fuck what your name is. Why are you here?”
“I, uh, I just wanted to come to a party. That’s all.” She was close to tears, but she’d be damned before she cried in front of them.
“Werebears don’t have parties, Ronnie.” The skinny boy from earlier had another beer in his
hand. “They like to sleep and get fat instead of having fun.”
More laughter burst out around her. Maybe, just maybe, if they kept laughing, they wouldn’t hurt her. But her hopes were soon dashed.
“I don’t like you being here, little bear.”
What could she say to Ronnie? “I’m sorry.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “I’ll leave.” “Like hell you will.”
Her alarm leapt into full-on panic. She wobbled on top of the barrels and almost fell before steadying herself.
“Since you’re here, little bear, you’re going to put on a show for us.” Ronnie turned around, his arms out-stretched. “You came here to see us so I think it’s only fair that we see you. Am I right, everyone?”
What did he mean? They could see her really well. Fear curled into her stomach, tightening it until she felt nauseous. When Ronnie pivoted back toward her, his lecherous expression turned her cold.
“Tell you what. You give us a good show and we might just let you stay.” More amber flecks flashed in his eyes. “But if we don’t like your show, we’ll make you pay for crashing our party.”
She didn’t ask what they’d do to her, and she didn’t want to know what he wanted her to do.
And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from asking. “What do you want me to do?” “Nothing much.” He crossed his arms. “Just a dance, is all.”
Relief swamped her so hard and fast her knees grew weak. “A dance? That’s it?”
“Sure.” He held his hand up at the groans coming from the others. “Yeah, just a dance. A dance where you take off your clothes.”
She felt the color drain from her face. “You want me to strip?”
“You got it, baby. Make it good and we’ll let you stay. If not…” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter one way or another to him.
“You’re kidding.” The beast inside her woke up, growling as it tried to reach the surface. The fear that had gripped her before began to morph into anger. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to take off my clothes.”
Ronnie’s smile twisted into something else. A very wicked, evil something else. “Then I guess we’ll just have to take your clothes off for you.” He lurched forward, reaching for her.
Jenny let out a surprised yelp, jarring the barrels, and losing her balance. She fell backward as Ronnie’s fingers brushed her legs.
Then, just as she was about to hit the ground, strong arms caught her. She stared into the handsome face of a young male werewolf, his dark gaze fixed to hers. Before she could think what he might do, he set her on her feet.
“Back off, Cagle. She’s mine.” Ronnie growled, low and mean.
He didn’t seem to hear Ronnie. Instead, he held her steady and kept his attention fixed on her. “Are you okay?”
She couldn’t speak. Not with the intense sensation scorching through her. Her body whipped into high gear, pounding her pulse and wetting the intimate spot between her legs. What was it about him that made her feel so…? So what? Amazing? Happy? Sexy?
“Hey, did you hear me? Are you okay?” In answer, she nodded.
“Good. Stay with my brother, Brennan.”
He stepped away from her just as another young man took his place beside her. He was obviously the brother he’d mentioned. Both had dark hair and glittering dark eyes. Both were built the same, muscles rippling even though they couldn’t have been much older than her own sixteen years. But they held a confidence not many boys had. Not a cockiness like Ronnie. Instead, theirs came from deep inside them, a calm sureness showing how self-reliant they were, how comfortable they were in their own skins.
“Stay put no matter what happens.” Brennan put his back to her, taking up a position as though to guard her from an attack.
“She’s nobody’s, Ronnie. She’s just a kid. Leave her the hell alone.” “Fuck you, Mark.”
She craned around to watch Mark ease his way around the barrels to come face to face with Ronnie. He had to be incredibly brave with Ronnie being an inch taller and a lot bigger than he was.
“No thanks. But if you’d like to go ahead and fuck yourself, then have at it.”
Ronnie shoved Mark, but he stood his ground. “Fuck, man. What are you? Some kind of bear lover?”
“Nope.” Mark planted his feet apart. “Just a guy who doesn’t want a shifter war started because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.”
As though they were a tag team, Brennan jumped into the act. “My brother’s right. So what if she’s werebear? I don’t know why she came here, but she’s not causing any problems. Or are you all afraid of one little bear?”
Little bear. If anyone else called her little bear, she’d go ballistic. Still, she knew when to keep her mouth closed. If the Cagle brothers could get her out of the mess she was in, then she’d let them call her little bear. For now.
The rumblings of the crowd grew quieter. For years, the werebears of Shatland and the werewolves of Forever had maintained an uneasy truce. No one wanted conflict, but the two kinds of shifters had never gotten along well. The young werewolves were smart enough to know that if they pushed her into doing what Ronnie wanted, there’d be hell to pay.
“He’s right. She’s not worth it. No damn bear is worth my time. Besides, she’s too damn skinny.”
She shot the skinny boy a look. First they’d said bears got fat and now she was too skinny. Hell, he was way skinnier than she was. Like a lot of werebear females, she had a few extra pounds on her. “Then break it up.” Mark tilted his head at Ronnie and crossed his arms in an unmistakable
challenge. “We’ll make sure she gets out of here. That good with you, man?”
“Whatever.” Ronnie glared at her again, then moved away, letting the pretty blonde pull him toward the crowd.