Bear Bride (Bear Cove #1)(9)
The anxious feeling in Troy’s chest was getting worse. His temples throbbed and his heartbeat felt as if it came from the depths of his throat. He had been thinking about Keyla, about the first time he had seen her, about her scent… That was it! Her scent!
He could feel it. Keyla was here. But how was it possible? He hadn’t seen her in weeks and almost no one from town ever came to the camp. What would she be doing here? Had she found out about the wedding? He had thought he had subconsciously called forward a memory so intense that he had confused it with reality, but he was becoming more and more certain that this had nothing to do with the memory at all. Mostly because mixed with her natural clean and fresh scent was the unmistakable, poignant smell of fear he had been trained only too well to recognize.
He flashed a look at his bride kneeling next to him and beyond the outline of the fierce bear’s jaw with its razor-sharp, almost gleaming white teeth that hung over her milky forehead, beyond the rough brown bristles that sheltered her rosy cheeks, he saw her beautiful, silky lips stretch into a slight, contented smile.
Suddenly, a piercing scream reverberated through the air and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. Aria flinched and instinctively lifted her hands, losing control of the bowl of paint, which flew forward. As if in slow motion, the thick liquid coursed through the air, a million drops of blood-red paint hovered, suspended midair, catching the sunrays and reflecting them brilliantly around until the spray finally splashed forcefully all over Corin’s white dress and face. She gasped, shocked, uncomprehending. Nothing seemed to be happening for the next few moments. Everyone held their breath as Corin raised a finger to her cheek and swiped it over it. When she brought it out before her eyes, her chilling cry joined the scream that kept coming in waves from the distance.
Chapter 6
Keyla
Keyla’s helpless kicking in the air was accomplishing nothing in the firm grip of the man who carried her through a door and inside one of the cottages. The adrenaline had filled her head and her ears buzzed with fear. She tried to dig her nails through the thick, furry cape the man was wearing, but they only met with a rough surface that felt like dry animal skin. Her temples bathed in sweat and she was barely registering the interior of the small wooden cabin. While her hands clutched the squashed cake box in a twisted attempt to keep it safe, her mind worked frantically to find a way out of the gloomy room and the iron clasp of the giant man.
The man was just about to throw her down on a shabby sofa, when he suddenly turned towards the wide-open door and sniffed the air like a police dog. Keyla seized the opportunity and dug her teeth into his wrist, clenching them over his rough skin. To her astonishment, he shook her off with a single shudder, as if he hadn’t felt more than a mosquito bite, and continued to inhale loudly, as if he could see something beyond the walls of the cabin. Or, more like smell something.
Keyla shifted her weight on his shoulder, so that she could turn to look in the direction of the door and just as she did so, a ruffled head appeared through the opening. At first she thought it was Troy, for the resemblance was uncanny, but in the short moment she had to examine the newcomer, she realized he was younger and his tousled hair and heavy stubble were lighter than Troy’s. His eyes were different, too. They were just as light as Troy’s but unlike his icy blue irises, the stranger, who could only be his brother or cousin, had almost yellow, honey-brown ones.
“What’s going on here?” the man at the door asked and made a cautious step forward. “Who is that?”
His eyes suddenly grew large with recognition and Keyla realized he must know who she was. She started twisting once more in the hands of the giant that held her and whimpered when his fingers dug harder into her flesh.
“Damien, let her go,” the newcomer said in a stern voice and strode forward, taking hold of Keyla’s ankle, which dangled helplessly in the air. “Do you even know who that is?”
“Of course I know,” Keyla’s captor growled and his massive chest and shoulders vibrated under her stomach as if his voice came from deep inside him and rattled his body as he spoke. “Did you think I’d let that charade go on out there? To hell with peace. We don’t need your stinky kind and I surely don’t need your brother’s slimy hands on my girl.”
He spat on the floor in the other man’s feet and Keyla’s body shook with his exertion. Then he started walking backwards and away from Troy’s brother, the faint roar within his chest rising louder and more palpable.
What happened next, felt like a dream to Keyla. When she thought about it later, she couldn’t quite place the details as it all transpired within seconds, and yet it felt stretched out in time as the terror had taken complete hold of her. All of a sudden she was flying towards the sofa and despite the soft landing, she heard her bones and joints crackle and pop upon the contact. She found herself in a messy heap over some folded blankets, her face buried in the soft buttery icing of the cake. When she fell, she didn’t realize the box had splayed open in the air and the collision with the creamy surface came as a shock.
She slowly lifted her head and scrambled to get to a sitting position, her eyes closed and sealed over with cake glazing. She tentatively licked the sugary frosting from around her lips and just as she reached to uncover her eyes, she heard a noise that made her freeze in her spot, her strained breath growing still. It echoed like thunder, only one that had crashed right there, inside the small room. Then there was a sharp snap as if lightning struck through the hollow, dry trunk of a monstrous tree. Keyla cringed back, shivering all over and fighting the violent wave of nausea that overtook her.