Quarterback Werebear Read online

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  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book is intended for adult readers only.

  Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

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  Contents

  Story Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

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  STORY DESCRIPTION

  Growing up on her dad’s ranch, Wesley Reed always regarded Chloe as a kid sister.

  Until he didn’t.

  One fateful night, he learned two terrifying facts—first, he is bear shifter, and second, Chloe is his mate.

  Determined not to reveal either to her for fear of ruining her promising future, Wesley left Jackson Valley. For good.

  Chloe Holt has had a crush on her dad’s ranch hand, Wesley, since she was eight years old. In her eyes, there has never been any boy that has even come close to Wesley.

  She always hoped that one day she’d catch his eye—that one day he’d see her not as a girl, but as a woman.

  That day never came. Instead, he disappeared—gone without so much as a goodbye.

  Now, all these years later, fate has caused Chloe and Wesley to cross paths.

  Will they finally get a chance to find happiness with one another?

  Chapter One

  Five years prior…

  The house was silent. The last light had flickered off a while ago from an upstairs window, but to the creature outside, hiding in the shadows, the house still retained a cozy, warm appeal that made his insides ache.

  He had turned from boy to man on this land.

  He had helped Tanner Holt, the ranch owner, manage the vast acres of grazing pastures and the wilder, uninhibited outcrops that bled out into the Wyoming mountains. Day after day, whatever the season, he had sweated and toiled to keep the Jackson Valley ranch a home for healthy livestock—herding oxen, buffalo and angsty, snappy goats to pasture and back again. In return, he had been given a place within the Holt family. More than just a place, he’d been welcomed with open arms as one of them.

  Tanner was the only father he had ever known. When he’d arrived at the ranch, a homeless kid of barely fourteen, he’d known next to nothing about farming—or life. He’d been taught it all, firmly and kindly, through Tanner’s seemingly bottomless pit of patience. Alongside Tanner was Josiah, the older, more experienced ranch hand who had been working the Wyoming land practically since birth. He’d been another steady male figure in Wesley’s life, a grouchy but gold-hearted grandfather who was always quick to praise when something was done right.

  Heather, Tanner’s wife, had arrived around ten years back—arrived in the literal sense. She’d been a mail-order bride. Tanner had recognized her as his mate almost immediately, and in turn, Heather had fallen head-over-heels in love with the man who was now her husband. Heather had embraced the rest of the family easily, fitting in as if she’d always been one of them, extending her affections to him and Josiah with maternal warmth and devotion. She had made the ranch a home. Fragrant cooking smells of fresh cut herbs, mouth-watering pastries, and the aroma of fresh baked bread now constantly surrounded the place. He would miss Heather’s cooking.

  He would miss them all.

  But the memories of Tanner, Josiah and Heather would all pale in comparison to the ache he felt leaving Chloe.

  She had been eight when he’d arrived at the ranch. The most outspoken, imperious and hilarious nine-year-old he’d ever met. She had Tanner, Josiah and him running round in circles after her. The day she decided to release all the hens from the henhouse stood out in his mind. She’d been determined to free them and let them fly away, deciding it was too cruel to eat their eggs. He and Josiah had had to herd them all back save one, the one that Chloe had squirreled away in her bedroom—barring the door to entry. It had taken a long time, and plenty of Mabel’s prize winning pie to coax her out.

  He and Josiah had become half ranch-hand, half babysitter to Chloe. They both loved her dearly. He’d never been annoyed by her persistent questions or demands, his heart lifting when he saw her skipping across the fields, the sunlight glistening off the strands of her hair, the same color as the golden wheat. He had always regarded Chloe as the kid sister he’d never had.

  That had all changed six months ago.

  Chloe had turned sixteen—a big milestone for her. But, as it turned out, she wasn’t the only one to experience a milestone. That day had turned Wesley’s world on its axis.

  The night of Chloe’s sixteenth birthday was the night Wesley first shifted.

  He had attended her birthday party, a huge celebration. Tanner and Heather had gone all-out, decorating the yard with beautiful flowers and tea lights, transforming the grounds into a fantasy-land for Chloe and her friends.

  Wesley had felt awkward as soon as the guests started to arrive. The girls screamed and gasped at the decorations, playing music as loud as it would go. Wesley had tried to join in with the rest of the family, but all the girls mooned over him, trying to get him to dance, tugging at his shirt and giggling in corners of the yard while looking directly at him. Tanner and Josiah had ribbed him, telling Wesley he was like a stud in a mare yard. Wesley had shrugged off their teasing, and taken the whole thing good-naturedly, but had found the afternoon overwhelmingly exhausting.

  As dusk drew in, Wesley finally found Chloe on her own. She was delirious from a day of bright sunshine, dancing and a sugar overload. Her white lace dress, drawn in at the waist with a lavender sash, had been spoiled earlier by a friend’s Dr. Pepper, but Chloe barely noticed.

  They’d sat down in the gazebo in the side yard, well away from the other guests and a frantic Heather who had spent the day running to and from the kitchen, bringing out culinary delights more suited to an upper East Side debutante ball, and dealing with spillages and giggling girls.

  “Did you have a good birthday?” Wesley had asked.

  “The best,” she sighed happily.

  Wesley had fumbled inside his jeans pocket, bringing out a small box wrapped in brown paper—he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the present and decided not to put it out on the gift table which was laden with gifts from Chloe’s many other admire
rs. Plus, gifts were not his forte, and his wasn’t from one of the upscale stores Chloe and her friends shopped at. He wasn’t sure it was quite good enough for a sixteenth birthday.

  Chloe had taken the present from his hand as if she was handling a rare gem.

  “I’d thought you’d forgotten,” she’d said, blushing with embarrassment.

  “Forget to get you present for your sixteenth?” Wesley had replied, “how could I? You’ve been talking about nothing else for months, Miss Holt,” he’d teased, suddenly feeling even more awkward than he had when he’d been faced with the squadron of ogling teenage girls.

  She’d opened the wrapping carefully, and when she saw what it contained, she’d gasped. She picked up the thin, silver chain so the amulet shone in the pinkish sunset. It was a small figure of a bear, molded from silver. Wesley had made it himself, spending days carving out the mold in wax till it perfectly resembled a bear in mid-step. Then he’d melted down his only possession, a silver chain bracelet he’d been given at birth, and poured it into the mold. It was meant to be a copy of the massive grizzly that so often roamed the outskirts of the ranch, never attacking any of the animals, but acting like it owned the place anyway. Josiah had called it ‘Tanner’s Bear’—something Wesley had, at the time, thought was a joke. He knew better now.

  “It’s exquisite,” Chloe had gasped. “Oh, Wesley, I love it so much!”

  Her appreciation seemed genuine, making Wesley flush with warmth.

  “Glad you like it,” he’d replied gruffly, clearing his throat.

  “Love it,” she corrected.

  To his surprise, Chloe had quickly darted her head forward, landing a soft kiss on his cheek.

  Wesley had been taken aback. The kiss was nothing out of the ordinary, he’d planted kisses on her cheek, and she his, plenty of times when she was a kid. He’d carried her for miles on his back, swept her up in his arms when she was misbehaving or upset. They had always had an affectionate relationship.

  The difference was that this time, Wesley had an unexpected reaction to the kiss. The moment her lips made contact, his skin felt like bare flame was licking over it. His heart had instantly started to pound—almost vibrate—in his chest. It was not the response he usually had—nor one he wanted.

  In that moment, the brotherly affection he felt for Chloe instantly vanished, replaced by something else entirely. He looked at her, for what felt like the first time in his life, as if Chloe Holt was a stranger. A beautiful, captivating stranger, but a stranger none the less.

  He had always thought Chloe was a pretty girl, but her features suddenly took on new dimensions. He noticed the grey flecks in her sky-blue eyes and the thick brown lashes that surrounded them, their tips lighter where they caught the sun. Her rose-bud lips didn’t seem sweet, or slightly comical anymore, but ripe and firm. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her—the way a man kisses a woman. He wanted to be the first to taste Chloe’s mouth, to mark her lips with a kiss of his own. His eyes travelled down to swell of her breasts, rising up against the lace of her dress.

  He had turned his head away in disgust, utterly bewildered and ashamed at himself. She was only a teenager, and he had watched her grow from a little girl! The incredible shame he felt when he thought of how Tanner, Josiah or Heather would feel if they knew the thought that were suddenly tumbling through his head about Chloe made him stumble up to his feet.

  “Happy birthday, Chloe,” he had muttered, desperate to get away.

  He had strode toward the kitchen, determined to help Heather tidy up. She had strictly told him to go and enjoy himself, so Wesley had left the party instead—slinking away unnoticed like a thief.

  In bed that night, his body had started to burn like fire, as if he had a high fever. His bones had ached, his muscles starting to spasm uncontrollably. Wesley had honestly thought he was dying. His breath came in rapid gasps, a knot of pain deep in the pit of his stomach, and the worst of all—a constant tugging, pulling sensation which felt like his body was trying to rip itself apart.

  He had cried out. Loudly.

  There had been no one around to hear him. He and Josiah slept in the bunkhouse which was a renovated barn just off the main property. Josiah had still been at the main house when Wesley tried to raise himself out of bed to get help, but he’d stumbled and fallen.

  The moment his body hit the hardwood floor, the change began.

  The pain was nothing like he’d ever experienced before, splitting him inside out, the pain of a branding iron tearing at his skin and burning his very soul.

  He was astonished, moments later when the pain had receded, to open his eyes and discover that he was standing on the floor on all fours. Where skin had been, there was now fur. Where he’d had nails and teeth, he now had claws and ferocious fang-like incisors which he delicately ran his tongue along, feeling their sharpness.

  He had run from the barn like his ass was on fire, tracking through the forest that surrounded the ranch, terrified he would eat one of the livestock, or worse, harm any human that crossed his path.

  It hadn’t been that way, though. In bear form, he had thought only of Chloe. Desperate to follow her scent to the ranch, knowing that he shouldn’t. But, he kept tracking there, no matter what course he set himself on, and then with willpower he hadn’t known he possessed, tearing himself away and forcing himself to run in the opposite direction.

  The change happened again the next night. And the one after that.

  With each successive change, the process got easier and less painful. The tugging, insistent ball of energy that appeared in his gut as a warning each time would never be comfortable, but he’d gotten used to it. His muscles had bulked out a lot. Wesley had always been strong, working a ranch day in and day out would do that to a person, but as a boy of fourteen or fifteen, it had tended to be in a leaner way. After a few years, he had started to bulk up, his shoulders broadening, his biceps and thighs becoming thicker and as solid as rock.

  More teasing had ensued from Josiah and Tanner, mostly about sending him off to the NFL to play quarterback, and making a fortune off him.

  It hadn’t taken Wesley long to hunt out the other bear that appeared on the property regularly. They met in the forest one evening, Wesley more amused than afraid. The present he’d given Chloe had suddenly taken on a whole different meaning. The other bear seemed friendly enough, disinclined to brawl over territory and more curious than anything,

  It was only when Wesley had followed him back in the direction of the ranch that he’d frozen in astonishment. Right before his eyes, that bear had shifted too, revealing his own boss, mentor, friend and father figure—Tanner Holt.

  Tanner had broached the subject with him the next day, and Wesley had finally gotten some answers. It turned out Tanner and his brother Derek were shifters too. Tanner and Derek had come from Wilkes, and were most likely part of a larger clan, though neither one, probably on account of their rotten upbringing, had ever sought out their shifter family roots. Tanner had guessed that Wesley was probably descended from the Ontario shifter clan—the area where Westley’s now long-deceased father was from.

  Tanner had taught him a lot about shifting over the first few months. But it was only the day before when Wesley had brought up the subject of why it was he’d suddenly gone through his initial shift when he did. Most shifters had their first shift at a young age and even the ones who were “late bloomers” shifted before puberty. Wesley was long past that.

  Tanner had shook his head.

  “I’m not sure, Wes,” he sighed. “The common reasons are extreme emotion—usually in terms of a rise of testosterone, so a lot of shifters first find out they’re shifters during a dramatic time, or when their body is stressed from puberty, or when they find their mates.”

  “What do you mean, ‘mates’?” Wesley had asked. He had no idea at the time what Tanner meant when he used the term ‘mate’.

  “Soulmate—like finding your significant other,” Tanner had rep
lied, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “But way more intense. Shifters only mate once, and that love lasts a lifetime. There’s no one else. No one else even comes close. I knew Heather was my mate the minute I laid eyes on her, and just prayed to God she felt the same way about me. I was lucky. For Jackson, it took a little longer. Audrey was right under his nose the whole time and he fought it tooth and nail.”

  “What if the person you know is your mate doesn’t… you know…love you back?” Wesley had asked weakly.

  “Never heard of it happening,” Tanner sighed happily. “I don’t think it happens that way. It’s fated. I don’t really know. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t understand about this world, the nature of having fated mates is one of them. All I do know, is that there’s no going back, and a shifter without his mate will rarely find happiness.”

  Wesley knew then.

  He knew in his heart, without a shadow of doubt, that it was Chloe who had jarred him enough to finally cause the transformation in him—the shift. Ever since the night of his first shift, her face haunted his dreams every night, filled his thoughts every day. Her scent filled the hills and valleys of the ranch and surrounding forest. She was everywhere. He couldn’t hear her laughter without a bolt of aching pain splintering his insides. Knowing that she was his world, and completely unable to do anything about it was eating him alive.