Four Alphas One Mate (Werebear Shifter FMMMM Menage Steamy Romance) by Willow Wilde
Authors: Willow Wilde
Ads: Link
Four Alphas One Mate
I don't know how long I sat with my little red car in park, the keys grasped firmly in my hand. This entire drive, I'd been running on autopilot, whizzing between the others on the interstate at least fifteen miles over the limit. My eyes had been scanning ahead for the obvious signs of a white vehicle pulled over, watching the tops of the other vehicles for any telltale sirens. But I hadn't seen more than two or three police cruisers during the whole five hours of driving, and as the highway had relinquished its grip of the terrain down to the back roads, and finally this meandering trail up into the woods, the likelihood of running into the fuzz had dropped to a resounding zip.
Even to me, my motivations for doing this were cloudy at best. I mean, I hadn't seen my father in something like eight years, after he walked out on us when we were kids. But when the news of his death hit me, the first thing I did was snatch up the key to our old family cabin and hit the road. I left the sprawling city and its nightclubs behind, trading them to collect my thoughts in the remote forests up north.
I glanced at my phone. Unsurprisingly, my signal was shot to hell. If anything horrible happened, it was clear as daylight that I was going to be on my own.
Speaking of, the canopy above me blotted out the vast majority of that. Enough sunshine fought its way through the branches to light the path, but the air was dark, with looming shadows all around. I listened for any impetus to hit this baby back in reverse and high-tail it out of here, but the woods were awfully quiet. The sounds of insects chirping met my ears, but that was about it. Not a single twig crunched, nor did a lumbering snarl unfurl from the distance.
"Well...I've come all this way, I guess," I told myself, popping open my driver's door. I pulled my dark green backpack from the passenger seat. "What's the point if I turn back now?"
* * * *
The walk to the cabin was fairly straightforward. From the end of this unpaved drive with a few designated but ultimately halfhearted parking spaces loomed a thin trail, curving between the trees and into the woods. I held my hunting knife curled tightly in my fist, a large and serrated piece of steel that had sat in a box beneath my bed for years. It had been the last thing that my father had left me before his unceremonial disappearance, and it was only begrudgingly that I wielded it now, preparing for the worst.
But I didn't hear any roars, or any sign of danger. Hesitantly, I continued onward into the woods, my memory faintly leading me down the trail. It was strange...I had halfway expected to hear some sign of danger. While I wasn't exactly inviting trouble, it was still common knowledge that wandering alone in the woods wasn't the safest thing for an emotionally compromised, lonely young lady to be doing.
The branches above were thinning, and the light was starting to brighten now. I could make out the trees further ahead, and spotted what looked like the opening to the familiar clearing. It wouldn't be long now before the cabin would be in sight, and then I could settle in for the weekend.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a face looming in the shadows. With my large hunting knife flashing what little light there was, I spun around to defend myself from my foe, but there was nothing there. It had looked like the quiet gaze of a looming bear, and I shivered. Are there bears here? Do they wander this close to the trail ?
The very thought of it unnerved me, and I considered bolting back for the car. But it was clear that nothing was there now, and the cabin was a lot closer than the brief safety of my car. I knew it passed a lot of safety ratings, but I somehow lacked the confidence in it defending me versus a full-grown bear.
Instead, I pushed forward, keeping my eyes
I don't know how long I sat with my little red car in park, the keys grasped firmly in my hand. This entire drive, I'd been running on autopilot, whizzing between the others on the interstate at least fifteen miles over the limit. My eyes had been scanning ahead for the obvious signs of a white vehicle pulled over, watching the tops of the other vehicles for any telltale sirens. But I hadn't seen more than two or three police cruisers during the whole five hours of driving, and as the highway had relinquished its grip of the terrain down to the back roads, and finally this meandering trail up into the woods, the likelihood of running into the fuzz had dropped to a resounding zip.
Even to me, my motivations for doing this were cloudy at best. I mean, I hadn't seen my father in something like eight years, after he walked out on us when we were kids. But when the news of his death hit me, the first thing I did was snatch up the key to our old family cabin and hit the road. I left the sprawling city and its nightclubs behind, trading them to collect my thoughts in the remote forests up north.
I glanced at my phone. Unsurprisingly, my signal was shot to hell. If anything horrible happened, it was clear as daylight that I was going to be on my own.
Speaking of, the canopy above me blotted out the vast majority of that. Enough sunshine fought its way through the branches to light the path, but the air was dark, with looming shadows all around. I listened for any impetus to hit this baby back in reverse and high-tail it out of here, but the woods were awfully quiet. The sounds of insects chirping met my ears, but that was about it. Not a single twig crunched, nor did a lumbering snarl unfurl from the distance.
"Well...I've come all this way, I guess," I told myself, popping open my driver's door. I pulled my dark green backpack from the passenger seat. "What's the point if I turn back now?"
* * * *
The walk to the cabin was fairly straightforward. From the end of this unpaved drive with a few designated but ultimately halfhearted parking spaces loomed a thin trail, curving between the trees and into the woods. I held my hunting knife curled tightly in my fist, a large and serrated piece of steel that had sat in a box beneath my bed for years. It had been the last thing that my father had left me before his unceremonial disappearance, and it was only begrudgingly that I wielded it now, preparing for the worst.
But I didn't hear any roars, or any sign of danger. Hesitantly, I continued onward into the woods, my memory faintly leading me down the trail. It was strange...I had halfway expected to hear some sign of danger. While I wasn't exactly inviting trouble, it was still common knowledge that wandering alone in the woods wasn't the safest thing for an emotionally compromised, lonely young lady to be doing.
The branches above were thinning, and the light was starting to brighten now. I could make out the trees further ahead, and spotted what looked like the opening to the familiar clearing. It wouldn't be long now before the cabin would be in sight, and then I could settle in for the weekend.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a face looming in the shadows. With my large hunting knife flashing what little light there was, I spun around to defend myself from my foe, but there was nothing there. It had looked like the quiet gaze of a looming bear, and I shivered. Are there bears here? Do they wander this close to the trail ?
The very thought of it unnerved me, and I considered bolting back for the car. But it was clear that nothing was there now, and the cabin was a lot closer than the brief safety of my car. I knew it passed a lot of safety ratings, but I somehow lacked the confidence in it defending me versus a full-grown bear.
Instead, I pushed forward, keeping my eyes
Similar Books
