Bear Bride (Bear Cove #1)(7)



Keyla stepped out of the car and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before carefully lifting the box from the seat. She told herself it would all be over in a few minutes. She liked to remind herself this in a variety of situations almost daily, all of the situations involving interaction with other people. She walked over between the two cabins and hid behind a corner to sneak a peek at the situation. Her gaze fell on Corin, surrounded by other girls she recognized from the hallways of high-school, all dressed in green frocks. Corin looked impeccable, the way people shouldn’t actually look in real life. Here was proof that not all magazine models were extensively retouched as Keyla wanted to believe. Corin glowed, tall and slender, magnificent in the imperial waist wedding gown that was neither too plain, nor too ornate, and just the right amount of ethereal and tasteful. Of course she would be Troy’s match.


She cringed at the thought of them having sex (she always tried to picture couples, especially good-looking ones, having sex, because it seemed just so unnatural and disturbing and, at the same time, thrilling). In her imagination she didn’t bother with details, such as what the bits and pieces of their bodies looked like naked, but rather the succession of fluid motions, the twisting of their bodies in perfect harmony, like the entire process had been carefully choreographed and rehearsed millions of times beforehand.

When Keyla imagined herself having sex with Troy, she only saw bumping heads, arms and legs sticking out at peculiar angles, hands getting stuck, hair getting in the way, knees popping and a general awkwardness that would completely erase the sensuality and passion she craved. Stop it! She mentally slapped herself. Trying to make things worse on purpose was not a habit she should be cultivating. Things were already bad enough on their own.

Keyla decided that it would be best to wait for the ceremony to begin and slip the cake in at the reception long table while all guests were facing forward and engrossed in the romance of it all. Balancing the box in her hands, she leaned against the rough wood of the cabin, immediately sensing strands of hair on the back of her head getting stuck to the uneven surface. Well, she guessed she would just have to rip herself apart from the wall, losing a few hairs, gaining a few more split ends, nothing that wouldn’t contribute to the already vast abyss between her and Corin. In a few minutes it wouldn’t matter anyway, as she prepared to watch the only man she had ever been truly attracted to and wanted to impress slip away from her forever.

There he was, tall and handsome as ever, his athletic arms filling out the sleeves of his dress shirt seductively, his ass tight and compact in the elegant suit pants, flexing as he walked towards his fairy tale bride, his hair playfully ruffled by the breeze. Only, his dimples were missing. There were no sensuous lips stretched into the smile that made her weak with longing, no white teeth flashing, no sunny lines around his eyes. He was serious and even…reluctant? As he stood by Corin, their hands not touching, their eyes not turning to absorb the other’s beauty, Keyla held her breath. Was it possible?

“Who are you?” an unexpected growl startled her and she almost dropped the cake, as she turned swiftly to face an enormous man looming over her. His light blue, almost glass eyes tore right through her and she realized she had opened her mouth but not a sound was coming out.

“I asked,” the man wasn’t in the least bit friendly, impatience written all over his lowered eyebrows and the scowl he gave her, “what are you doing here? Who sent you?”

“I-I… The cake,” Keyla managed to mumble, beads of sweat dotting her hairline, “I’m delivering the wedding cake.” She had never seen this man before. He was slightly older than her and surely she hadn’t crossed paths with him at school. He kept looking at her incredulously as if she was some sort of a freak, some lesser form of a human being with no right to trespass. “I’m Keyla, from the bakery,” she made a last attempt to clarify her presence beside the cabin’s wall, her voice trembling with insecurity.

Suddenly, as soon as he heard her name, his entire face changed, and she could have sworn she saw something of a shadow, a strange, contorted mask passing over his features, or was she simply terrified?

“Well, isn’t that exactly what I needed,” he said, apparently talking to himself, and without a warning, he snatched her arm above the elbow, his fingers digging into her soft flesh like metal claws, and dragged her forcefully towards the back of the house. She barely managed to keep the cake from smashing on the ground and right when she opened her mouth to scream, a huge, hairy hand clasped over her parted lips, almost suffocating her. Strangely enough, as the man quickly picked her up off the ground with one hand, while holding the other over her mouth, the first thought that passed through her mind wasn’t about her safety, but that that he had had no difficulty at all lifting her up, as if she was small, as if she was delicate, light as a feather. Then the fear flooded her and she clutched the box even more tightly, feeling the sugar petals of the cake inside crumple and break under her fingers.





Chapter 5



Troy





Elaine, Troy’s mother, handed him the bear skin, her eyes glistening with something between pride and deep sorrow at the moment when Aria was draping another bear skin, smaller and lighter brown, over her daughter’s shoulders. Troy placed the bear’s head over his own and wrapped the thick, furry hide around himself. Then they both kneeled in the feet of their mothers, who stood under the lavishly decorated pine branch wedding arch. Troy finally gathered the strength to look sideways at his bride. Half hidden under the bear skin, she looked as innocent and graceful as a fairy princess, her cheeks smooth and blushing in the crisp morning air, her long eyelashes fluttering, and her large, deep brown eyes demurely lowered to the mossy ground in front of her. If he didn’t know her, if he didn’t sense the blood under her fingernails and the pieces of ripped skin at the tips of her sharp teeth, the darkness that enveloped her heart and the insatiable hunger that emanated from her like perfume, he could have fallen for her. He could have let himself be enchanted by her beauty and her sensuality. Her powerful ferocity and greed, however, did nothing but repulse him.

Shelley Shifter's Books