Bearly Rescued: A Howls Romance (The Mates of Bear Paw River Book 3) Read online

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  Bearly Rescued Copyright 2018 Everleigh Clark

  Editor Wizards in Publishing

  Cover Art by Melgraphics

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Sneak peek at Sam’s story

  Also by Everleigh Clark:

  Bearly Shifted

  Bear With Me

  About Everleigh Clark

  Isabella Werner – Wolf shifter. Princess. Vegetarian…Prisoner. She’s fighting for her life and her freedom.

  Caleb Alexander – Bear shifter. Running from a haunted past…Undercover guard. His job is simple. Get the information so they can take down the assholes testing on shifters. There’s only one problem. His mate is one of the prisoners, and his bear is about to lose control…again.

  Who rescues who?

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  Bearly Rescued

  Book Three of the Mates of Bear Paw River

  (A Howls Romance)

  By Everleigh Clark

  Prologue

  Isabella Werner took a long, deep breath and dropped her Osprey Ariel AG backpack to the ground. Golden rays announcing the new dawn peeked through the branches, and the birds were already singing their morning tribute. She opened her mouth and let the sounds flow freely.

  “Good morning, world,” she sang, the last word embellished with a trill that would have made Mariah jealous. Okay, maybe not Mariah. But she could totally give Carrie Underwood a run for her money. And Izzy didn’t sing about revenge or cheatin’ boyfriends. Nah, life was too short to wallow in negativity or “what-ifs.” She chose to embrace all the beauty around her. The dark moss and poison ivy wrapped around one of the largest trees she had ever seen, and she pulled her backpack open as she continued a medium-paced hum. A plump squirrel darted up the tree and chattered above her, scurrying through the vines and moss. Anyone else would see poison ivy and shudder at the thought of horrible itching and welts. Was that mold and fungus on the other side? Yes, it was. Perfect!

  She lined up her shot, framing the agitated squirrel. After this one shot, she could eat breakfast.

  She pressed her pointer finger down once, twice, three times. The squirrel gave her one more angry screech before scurrying up the tree, and she hummed again as she pulled her Nikon DL 18-50 camera from her face. The colors were brilliant! The greens, browns, and oranges mixed with the golden sun. Izzy set her camera on top of her pack and sat down to listen to the morning ritual of all the Goddess’s creatures.

  Now, it was time for breakfast. Pulling out the long, thin wrapped nutrition bar, she tore it open and chewed thoughtfully. This was her third morning of processed foods. Even though it was fruits, nuts, and completely vegan and healthy, she knew her body needed more. Real fruits, vegetables, calcium… Meat, her wolf replied from deep within her.

  Izzie was a wolf shifter. Well, not just any wolf shifter, she mused as she leaned against the other side of her backpack and watched the sky brighten. She was the daughter to both an alpha and the queen of the Royal Herne Clan in New York. A long sigh released from her chest, memories threatening to darken her day. Nope, she wouldn’t let yucky thoughts drown her parade. Or whatever the phrase was. She laughed to herself. Rain on her dog? She stifled another giggle, mostly because her wolf was still put out about going vegetarian since they started this expedition. Not fully vegetarian. Her wolf needed to roam free and hunt, needed the fresh kill, needed protein in the form of an animal. And Izzy allowed it. Every week or so, she’d shift and allow her wolf to do what it did best. Hunt.

  But the rest of the time, when she was Izzy—the human, the singer, the crazy single chick hiking through Bolivia—then she got to choose what went into her body. Vegetarian options had never been easier to obtain. And her body and mind felt amazing. It could also be because she wasn’t stuck at home behind walls, fighting with her parents about something as stupid and antiquated as an arranged marriage with another wolf pack.

  Yeah, that could be it, too. She rolled her eyes and took a swig from her canteen. She’d left last year, on her solo adventure to travel the world, explore a bit, say “screw you” to the marriage offer. Her trip had been all she’d ever dreamt it could be. Bungee jumping from the Bloukrans Bridge in Western Cape, South Africa. Hiking the Inca trail in Peru, train hopping through New Zealand… And now she was on her final leg. A nice little hundred-mile hike through the Bolivian Amazon. She’d have to go home when this was over.

  Glancing at her phone, she checked the date. She’d promised her best friend, Mikayla, she would keep her posted every few weeks. And Mikayla was keeping her family in the loop, letting them know she was alive and all right. She’d wanted to get away from them for a while and think— she would never do something so hurtful as to leave without a trace. Thankfully, Mikayla had agreed to be her go-between. She took a quick selfie in front of the largest tree and texted it to Mikayla.

  < final journey, M! Wish you were here. >

  Her wolf grumbled impatiently, reminding her food was a tad more important than silly things like selfies.

  All right, I’ll let you out to hunt tonight. Let’s get up this first ridge, okay? She put her phone away then grabbed her backpack to continue hiking.

  A loud sound to her left startled her, and she turned to see what was running so quickly through the woods. It was bigger than a squirrel, for sure. She inhaled the other scents, including the pissed-off squirrel above her head. It was faint. All shifters could smell their surroundings. She inhaled again and wrinkled her nose. But not all shifters could scent another shifter who was in human form. The human running toward her was a tapir. She thanked her royal heritage for giving her the ability to discern so easily. Dropping her backpack, she pulled her bow and an arrow out of the quiver and strode to the west.

  The female tapir crashed through the woods in human form. When her gaze fell on Izzy’s drawn bow, she screamed and fell to the ground. Izzy set her bow down and advanced on the naked girl who mewled up at her with terror in her eyes. But her gaze went back to the trees behind her before she whimpered at Izzy.

  What the hell was a tapir doing in this part of Bolivia? They were herbivores who belonged in the wetlands and rainforest. And why hadn’t she shifted and utilized her white stripes as camouflage to hide instead of running around on two legs?

  “Help me. They’re coming,” the young woman cried out in Spanish, her scratchy voice filled wi
th panic.

  “Can you shift?”

  She shook her head and tried to stand but fell to her knees again with a groan. Bruises and cuts marred the poor woman’s body, and her ankle was swollen—too messed up to run anymore since fight or flight had dissipated.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Romina, y usted?”

  “Isabella Werner. I’m a wolf. I promise I’ll protect you. Who’s chasing you?”

  “I don’t know who they are. Bad men. Humans.” She sobbed.

  Crap. Izzy couldn’t scent anything else coming from the woods. Which unnerved her. There was a dark spot, almost like the scents disappeared about a mile out. Some sort of masking scent beyond anything she had ever heard of, possibly. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She offered her canteen to the young woman who took it and drank vigorously. “This is going to suck for a few days, but at least you’ll be alive.” She pointed at the large tree with the moss and poison ivy covering it. “Think you can climb?”

  Romina drew in a loud gasp then considered her naked form. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good. Put these on.” Izzy drew pants and a shirt and socks from her pack—no time for shoes—and tossed them at her.

  Romina got dressed quickly while Izzy counted the arrows in her quiver. Her hunting knife went in a bush on the left, just in case. A few more arrows, strategically placed in bushes—it sounded dumb. But better safe than sorry. What if she fell on her back or the arrows fell out while she was ducking and running? Her G4Free Back Pot Quiver could carry twenty-four arrows, but she’d only brought twelve. And it’s not like she’d ever had to shoot anything besides a target, princess, and all.

  We need to shift, her wolf said, agitation building in her voice.

  Let’s assess the full threat first. Maybe they’ll pass us by, and we can run for it. Izzy didn’t want to fight in wolf form unless absolutely necessary. Besides small animal kills for food, her wolf had never fought for anything in her life.

  She took another inhale of the changing scents.

  “Get up the tree now, Romina. They’re getting closer, maybe a half mile out.”

  Romina, now dressed, scrambled for the tree but cried out as the barbs from the lower vines sank into her skin. Crap.

  “I’ll help. See if you can reach the first branch.” It was almost ten feet over her head, but they had to hurry. Knowing this was going to suck eggs, Izzy leaned her back against the tree and picked Romina up so she could kneel on her shoulder. Damn, she wished she had her older brother’s strength. Zach would probably have grabbed both of them—one in each arm, and, in a Herculean move, tossed them up into the first branch. Okay, he wasn’t that strong. But he was pretty damn formidable and would die to protect his little sister, even though he called her a pest and a brat. She winced and braced herself on the tree as the other woman’s feet and fingers clawed into her chest and shoulder.

  Gawd, this ivy stuff was going to be all over her body soon, and it was going to be awful. Hopefully, her hands wouldn’t rash up so quickly she couldn’t work her bow. Last time she had come into contact with poison ivy, her whole body had swelled up to the size of a mutant tomato. Oh, wait, that was a dumb movie she’d watched as a kid. But she had gotten so rashy and itchy, she’d lost control of her fingers until Zach had given her a shot and her mother forced her to shift. She shook her head at the silliness of her life as she gave Romina another push. Who had ever heard of a shifter allergic to poison ivy? Then again, who’d ever heard of a vegetarian wolf princess? The weight on her shoulder dissipated, and she peered up to see Romina curl her legs onto the branch.

  Izzy raced back to her pack and drew out the camo netting she’d been using to get awesome photos of wildlife this past year. She’d never thought of it as a life-saving device. But now, as she threw it into the outstretched arms of this helpless woman, she thanked the Goddess for putting her here at this exact moment. “Cover yourself up, and don’t move, no matter what.”

  “Thank you, Isabella.”

  Izzy tossed her backpack up at her, too. “Hold onto that for me, ’kay?”

  She nodded and hid her body and the backpack under the netting. Only a shifter with really good sight and smell would be able to tell she was up there.

  Izzy ran to the opposite side of the woods, as far away from the tree as she could get. When the smells of nothing got closer, Izzy grabbed her bow and quiver and hid behind the largest bush.

  A few moments later, she heard the quiet footsteps stalking through the woods. With her keen hearing, she could discern three different sets of footfalls coming their way. Okay, three human a-holes. She placed her first arrow into the nocking point of her bow. Shoot first, ask questions later? Yeah, it rubbed her pacifist side a bit. But this was life or death. Exceptions had to be made. Besides, she wouldn’t kill any of them unless they tried to kill her or Romina, but she could make a pretty good shot to take out their mobility.

  She closed one eye and drew back the bowstring as the first man entered her sights. Big, burly, dressed in camo, a large rifle of some sort clutched in front of him, he was definitely a human. But he smelled like nothing. Literally nothing.

  She aimed and prepared to hit him in the thigh. She was a good shot. She wouldn’t hit a major artery to make him bleed to death. Her mother had balked at the idea of her “little princess” doing anything violent but had acquiesced to the nice relaxing sport of archery. Yeah, because big red bull’s-eyes couldn’t fight back. Thank the Goddess she had something she was good at. She held her breath and prepared to release the bowstring.

  A large hand shoved her hand down as she released. The arrow struck the ground only a few feet out. The male backhanded her before throwing her facedown in the dirt, his boots stomping again and again onto her back. The crack of at least one rib breaking preceded her loud cry of pain. Her vision spotted, eyes blurred with tears as he yanked her up. He growled and tightened his grip on her neck. Shit, she was going to die right here, murdered by a human who fought with the strength of a shifter. Another strangled wheeze left her mouth as she flailed about in his grip with nothing to do but shift and fight back. Her teeth elongated, and her claws lengthened. A low growl emanated from her chest as the too-slow process took over. Damn. She hadn’t practiced fast shifts or shifting for fights. Her mother claimed it wasn’t necessary. And now that the adrenaline and pain from his blows and the sudden shift had hit her full force, she seemed to be stuck mid-shift.

  “Don’t kill her.” The guy who she’d been about to shoot rushed toward them, a small pistol in his right hand, a walkie-talkie in his left. “Bossman said to bring this one in alive.”

  “What about the female we lost?”

  He scanned the area for a moment and scowled back at her. Hell, she wasn’t going anywhere. Rambo had her hands behind her back in his meaty paws, which hurt like the mother of all pain because of her broken rib. She needed to shift. Her clothes might entangle her for a few precious seconds, but at least she could lead them away from Romina.

  He grinned at her, his hand still on the pistol. “You can’t escape us, female. Tell us where the other...beast...is hiding, and maybe we won’t rough you up too much before we take you in.”

  No way was she giving up that poor woman. Izzy didn’t want to do this. She’d never killed another human or shifter in her life. The only times she had ever killed an animal was for subsistence for her wolf. But it was natural. Well, so is this, growled her wolf. Let’s naturally shift and rip their throats out so we can all go on living. It would hurt. Especially with a broken rib. Could she do it? Kill another?

  “Let her go. Please!” The pitiful cry came from behind them as Romina shimmied down the tree and wobbled toward them. “Take me.”

  Dammit! Isabella shifted. Her pants and boots fell off easily, and her shirt only tangled her up a bit. She soared through the air and knocked the other soldier down before standing in front of Romina. Positioned between Romina and the three large men,
she growled and snapped at them.

  The first man stepped forward, gun in hand, and took aim. Izzy jumped. She latched onto his wrist and bit down. The gun went flying; the man screamed. She turned to the next soldier and launched into the air, grazing his shoulders. She landed on the ground behind him and turned. The sharp pain in her ribs was replaced by pinpricks in her flank and shoulder. Two darts had pierced her fur and skin.

  The world went Pee Wee Herman in a freaking rainbow tornado, and she fell with a loud thump. Her eyes closed and she heard the pleas of her friend as she was struck, followed by the click and pfft of the tranq gun then Romina’s yelp.

  “Get the helicopter to the clearing and these bitches into cages,” a low voice rumbled over her. She barely reacted to the kick to her already-broken ribs, her body numb.

  “Where are we going with these two?”

  “The small one stays in Alfred Nzo. Bossman wants the wolf back in the States so he can see her himself. Cage them, keep them regularly tranqued, and get this one on the plane right away.”

  Bits of information filtered through her fuzzy brain as they lifted her and put her onto a stretcher. They talked about getting her on the plane, taking her to Lexington. A place called Hazard, Kentucky… She was going back to the U.S. where it sounded like humans were doing something really bad with shifters. Her backpack and phone were still in the tree, so no one would know what happened to her. Crap. Her vacation was officially over.

  She raised a shaky paw toward the blurry tree line.

  The world faded to black.

  Chapter One

  Caleb Alexander strode past the lunchroom and down to the area he was searching for. There it was. The office of the big man himself. The bastard made everyone call him “Bossman,” so no one would know his real name.

  Caleb knew the timing by heart. The last set of guards had changed over for the day, leaving a four-minute lapse between the day and night guards. Now, all he had to do was get to the computer. It looked like a piece of crap Apple IIc from the eighties, but it was actually the newest, latest model known to man. The firewall would be hard for someone to breach, especially with its 256 bit encryption. Luckily, he knew someone with a few computer skills. Me. People automatically blew him off as a meathead only good for things like manual labor, guard duty, and professional football. It was easy to appear dumb Neanderthalish. Hell, at six feet five and 250 pounds, he appeared as nonthreatening as Andre the Giant playing chess with Stephen Hawkings. But he could hack into an NSA firewall in less than five minutes, and he could change The Rock’s twitter header to include a photo of a pink fluffy unicorn dancing on a rainbow, for fun, but he was here only as a dumb grunt. Caleb’s job was to assimilate into the human facility, learn the identity of the head of this filthy organization, and get the intel back to the HSIC. Head Shifter in Charge. Shifter, as in a man who shifted into tiger form whenever he wanted.