Black Bear Fall: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 2) Read Free

understand. It had been a mistake to go to Ireland and she now understood that.
    The woman stretched once more and brushed the dirt from her loose dress. Her baby stirred against her and made a contented gurgle. As she headed on her way her heart ached in her chest at the things she had done while her husband was in the city of London. Regrets were not something she often carried with her, when you lived as long as she did, you could not clutter up your mind with what ifs or could have beens. Still she felt a painful throb as she headed on her way. Her husband didn’t deserve all she had done to him, as he was essentially a good man who had lost his way in the last few decades. He had let the weight of a shifters existence infuse his being, something she had seen happen countless times. There are so many times you can hear stories about a clan destined for greatness and then look at how your life did not equal that in any way. Some shifters wandered off into the forest and were never seen from again. The woman could see that the same thing had begun to happen to her husband and it was as if she could already see his path brightly lit ahead of him. Everything would become too much for him and he would one day wander off into the woods to die alone.
    Maybe her fleeing and returning to America would give him a purpose she thought sourly. Keep telling yourself that, anything to bury the guilt you feel for your actions, he didn’t deserve what you did to him she thought as she began walking. It would take her a few days of walking and sleeping wild for her to reach the port city of Cork. From there the woman would get passage and leave this superstitious rain scoured rock behind. There is nothing about this place that will be missed she thought, as she padded through the undergrowth her ears tuned to any noise that wasn’t animal moving about. The woman was alone and left to her thoughts as she made her way to Cork.

2
    Grace & Anne
    T he crushing pain in her head as if it was being squeezed in a vice was the first thing that Grace became aware of. The next was the cold metal floor that she was lying on and the gentle sway and bump of the room she was in. She tried to moves her arms and they were tied behind her back and her legs were also bound. Her eyes felt heavy as if glued shut and she struggled to open them. She had been dreaming of being buried alive and she could still taste the dirt in her mouth. The sway of the room faded away to black and then returned with no idea of the passage of time. Grace opened her eyes and lying across from her facing her on the floor was Anne, her eyes closed and her eyelids flickering as if she was in a deep dream. Grace gritted her teeth as a bright shard of pain spiked the back of her brain. Feels like the worst hang over she thought to herself, her brain felt sluggish and off kilter. She was finding it hard to piece together what was happening, all she seemed to be able to grasp was the mix of sensations of the swaying room, the cold metal against her cheek and a stale pungent odour burning her nose. The blackness pulled her back down again and when another shard of pain pulled her out of it she looked into Annes wide open and frightened eyes.
    Grace tilted her head and looked around. They were on the floor of an old flatbed truck with two metal benches on either side. She saw one pair of leather army style boots sitting behind Anne and guessed there was another guard behind her.
    “They’re waking up,” a voice from behind her said. His voice sounded muffled and distorted as if he was talking with something pressed against his face.
    The man on the opposite bench said, “Do we tranq them again?”
    “No its too dangerous to dose them so soon,” he said.
    “Can we get some water,” Grace said, her voice dry and raspy.
    “Sure,” said the man behind her and she heard a bottle of water being opened. “You try any funny stuff and it’s the end of the good treatment,” he