Marked (Primal Obsessions #2) - Cara Wylde Page 0,9

ate, or if bear cubs ate different things than regular human children. What did they need to be given to be nurtured properly? What skills should I be teaching this boy? Would he… would he transform too and cause trouble?

Jack and I had tried to have children and failed. Another thing for which he blamed me and beat me up – my barren womb. My guess? It was his infertile ass that was the issue here. But in the end, it was for the better. Raising a child with Jack meant he would’ve had an extra boxing bag, and I didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s suffering, much less my own child’s.

I felt something wet touch my breasts and looked down. I undid my towel and it wasn’t wetness touching me. I was… lactating? I slumped against the bed frame, feeling even more lost and confused.

The mattress moved and dipped behind me, and I turned around just in time to catch the little rascal, who, in his defense, looked absolutely adorable and cuddly. I held him to my chest, ready to drown him in cuddles meant to soothe the both of us, when he attached himself to one of my nipples and started suckling. It hurt at first, but it wasn’t unbearable. In fact, the more he suckled, the more I enjoyed it. He was bringing the first genuine smile to my lips that I had in years. He was so perfect. I traced his little head with a finger and started humming a song I heard playing on the radio, downstairs. His eyes were closed, and he was eating slowly, and I felt at peace, too.

Perhaps this could work, after all?

But I wasn’t allowed to hope and bask in my momentary happiness, because something even more shocking happened.

Three large bears knocked down the door, breaking it further when they stepped on it, trying to get to me. I ran, naked as I was, aiming to hide in the bathroom, but one of them, the larger one, tackled me, and I fell on my hands and knees. I screamed, not just in fear, but also in pain, because it had been my left arm the one that had broken the fall, since the other was busy holding onto the baby, and I could feel I had hurt myself even worse. It was probably broken for good now, and it hurt – it hurt like Jack’s beatings. Images of his rage, of me on the floor, huddled just like this, flashed through my mind, and I was finding it harder and harder to breathe. My vision blurred, half because of the pain and because of the tears, and all I could do was to make myself as small as I could and endure. Bears. Bloody bears. I was done for now.

Growls and roars, sounds that belonged to beasts, not people, filled the space. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew they had come for me because of the bear boy. One of them yanked me up by the same damned arm, his bear claws leaving marks on my skin, and I screamed again. He tried to take the boy, and I did my best to fight him off, desperate and chaotic.

The other two were growling in the background, and they didn’t sound human-like at all. My body and my mind were in agony. All I knew was that I had to protect the boy. For his dead mother. For myself. For the innocence he represented. Were they the reason the she-bear had been running, or were they family? I didn’t know for sure, and I wasn’t going to let the boy go without some reassurances.

I fought and I screamed, and the brute slapped my face so hard he sent me sprawling against the bathroom door. From there, I had a better view of the situation. There I was, a broken woman, facing three bears set to take the boy and… do what with me? Beat me? Kill me? Why were they here? What did I ever do to these people, or to anyone, to have such bad luck in life?

He didn’t need to wrestle me for the child now. With a broken arm and my strength depleted, I stood and watched him take the boy, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, like a true animal. And then I watched as he transformed into a human, and passed it to one of his friends, now both