Hunting For A Mate 4 (BBW Shifter Menage Romance) by Becca Fanning Page A
Authors: Becca Fanning
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knew this would have to be different: I wouldn’t be dumping these rose bushes into my kitchen garbage can with a shrug. I’d have to learn about watering frequency, nutrients, even soil PH levels.
Passing by my thorny wards, I came to the rear of the cabin where our garden plots were. Three long rows of elevated beds stretched out the length of the yard. At least I’d have help with these. The white beehive was in the corner of the yard, quietly humming. They tended to stay inside their wooden box at night, vibrating their wings to keep themselves warm.
I jogged to the end of the yard, then past a row of spruce trees and out onto one of the rough trails that snaked and forked through our forest. It went for dozens of miles in all directions, the collective land of the pack passed down from generation to generation. A dynasty of natural resources which was ours to tend, utilize and protect for future generations.
I knew it was probably also the biggest source of Helmut’s stress. He had big decisions to make. Everyone knew that there was natural gas and oil on the land, but whether or not to exploit it was a troubling question. There would be ecological damage done, that was unavoidable. But it would also improve the quality of life for everyone in the Pack.
Once I hit the main part of the trail, I picked up my pace. The cold air rushed in and out of my lungs, reinvigorating me with every step. Loose dirt and fallen leaves crunched beneath my feet, a clear sign that fall was coming to an end. Winter was coming, as they loved to say on my favorite show.
The forest trails were anything but flat. Up and down, down and up, it was like whomever decided on these trails chose the most grueling path through the forest possible. It took my full concentration not to overstep on the inclines and fall on my rear on the descents. A broken leg out here would be very bad, even if my Shifter regeneration could mend it.
The forest began to take on a lighter hue. The sky overhead was turning from black to dark blue. Dawn’s magnificent resurgence was fast approaching. I redoubled my efforts, trotting up a steep incline and around a bend.
Off to my right the hill descended down into bushes and saplings. To my left was a huge overhang of stone, which lead into a cave. I stopped. I had never seen this before. I couldn’t be sure if I had ever run down this path before, but I’d definitely never seen anything like this cave before.
It was beautiful. The stone was clean and dry, a light gray color and smooth to the touch. It was tall enough inside that you didn’t have to crouch, and it descended deep into the hill. There was light further in, but it was hazy. I listened, making sure I wasn’t going to stumble onto a wild boar or Scandinavian Wolf. Hearing nothing from within, I went into the cave. It soon became a tunnel, twisting and turning, and was soon narrow enough that I was getting claustrophobic. Hard stone scraped against my thighs and chest as I squeezed between a final wedge to emerge into a small room.
A shaft of dim pre-dawn light shone down from a hole in the ceiling of the cave. In the center was of the room was a natural rock formation that rose up from the floor and was hollow in the center. It was filled with water, murky and stagnant. It smelled of mildew and decaying leaves.
“Ahh, it answers the call,” a soft voice said.
I spun around, but there was no one else here. I looked up through the hole, but didn’t see anyone up there. I couldn’t explain it, but the voice came from the water. “Hello?”
“It is polite enough to greet. Yes, polite enough to greet. We shall be polite as well, yes?” the voice said. It was a small voice, and it defied gender. But it did sound very old.
“Umm, hello?” I said, walking around the formation and peering into the water.
“It repeats itself. Has it lost it’s mind? The poor thing is mad!” it said, it’s voice rising in
Passing by my thorny wards, I came to the rear of the cabin where our garden plots were. Three long rows of elevated beds stretched out the length of the yard. At least I’d have help with these. The white beehive was in the corner of the yard, quietly humming. They tended to stay inside their wooden box at night, vibrating their wings to keep themselves warm.
I jogged to the end of the yard, then past a row of spruce trees and out onto one of the rough trails that snaked and forked through our forest. It went for dozens of miles in all directions, the collective land of the pack passed down from generation to generation. A dynasty of natural resources which was ours to tend, utilize and protect for future generations.
I knew it was probably also the biggest source of Helmut’s stress. He had big decisions to make. Everyone knew that there was natural gas and oil on the land, but whether or not to exploit it was a troubling question. There would be ecological damage done, that was unavoidable. But it would also improve the quality of life for everyone in the Pack.
Once I hit the main part of the trail, I picked up my pace. The cold air rushed in and out of my lungs, reinvigorating me with every step. Loose dirt and fallen leaves crunched beneath my feet, a clear sign that fall was coming to an end. Winter was coming, as they loved to say on my favorite show.
The forest trails were anything but flat. Up and down, down and up, it was like whomever decided on these trails chose the most grueling path through the forest possible. It took my full concentration not to overstep on the inclines and fall on my rear on the descents. A broken leg out here would be very bad, even if my Shifter regeneration could mend it.
The forest began to take on a lighter hue. The sky overhead was turning from black to dark blue. Dawn’s magnificent resurgence was fast approaching. I redoubled my efforts, trotting up a steep incline and around a bend.
Off to my right the hill descended down into bushes and saplings. To my left was a huge overhang of stone, which lead into a cave. I stopped. I had never seen this before. I couldn’t be sure if I had ever run down this path before, but I’d definitely never seen anything like this cave before.
It was beautiful. The stone was clean and dry, a light gray color and smooth to the touch. It was tall enough inside that you didn’t have to crouch, and it descended deep into the hill. There was light further in, but it was hazy. I listened, making sure I wasn’t going to stumble onto a wild boar or Scandinavian Wolf. Hearing nothing from within, I went into the cave. It soon became a tunnel, twisting and turning, and was soon narrow enough that I was getting claustrophobic. Hard stone scraped against my thighs and chest as I squeezed between a final wedge to emerge into a small room.
A shaft of dim pre-dawn light shone down from a hole in the ceiling of the cave. In the center was of the room was a natural rock formation that rose up from the floor and was hollow in the center. It was filled with water, murky and stagnant. It smelled of mildew and decaying leaves.
“Ahh, it answers the call,” a soft voice said.
I spun around, but there was no one else here. I looked up through the hole, but didn’t see anyone up there. I couldn’t explain it, but the voice came from the water. “Hello?”
“It is polite enough to greet. Yes, polite enough to greet. We shall be polite as well, yes?” the voice said. It was a small voice, and it defied gender. But it did sound very old.
“Umm, hello?” I said, walking around the formation and peering into the water.
“It repeats itself. Has it lost it’s mind? The poor thing is mad!” it said, it’s voice rising in
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