Hunting For A Mate 4 (BBW Shifter Menage Romance) Read Free Page A

small, like a child. It had a wicked face, long teeth and I think it was insane,” she said. “It kept babbling about it’s fountain, which it peed into. Then it pulled out an axe and wanted to chop me up. I know it sounds crazy, but it was like it really happened. I can still see it’s yellow eyes, peeking out from below it’s red hat.”

    I forced my breath to remain steady. A Redcap! How? Why? It had been hundreds of years since one had been seen, and most people had written them off as a story used to scare children. Something to keep them from wandering around at night. Stay in your beds or the Redcap will come for your feet! I remembered the fear those words instilled in me when I was young. “And then what happened?”

    “It heard something. I think it got scared. Maybe it was scared of you? Whatever it was,” she said, “it disappeared and I was back on the trail. The cave was gone too.”

    “Did it say anything else?” I said calmly.

    After a moment’s hesitation, “No. Not really,” she said.

    “Well, I don’t know what you saw, My Grace, but I suspect hitting your head played a part in it. Could this have been a dream from last night that this bump made you confused about?” I said. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to alarm her. The last thing she needed to worry about was some forest spirit with an axe wanting to chop her up.

    “I don’t know. Maybe,” she said. “I’m getting cold.”

    Under other circumstances I might have suggested a way we could warm up out here. But she was still shaken up and I had to admit feeling a level of unease. “Let’s go get our clothes and head back home,” I said.  

    I opened the front door of the cabin and the smell of cooking made my stomach rumble. Did one of our Pack Mates come over to make us breakfast? I walked into the kitchen and was struck by the second strangest sight of the day: Sven cooking.

    I took in the sight in all its glory. He towered over the stove, his back to me. He had tied on an apron, but was otherwise naked. His tribal tattoos wrapped up and down his arms, and his back was like a roadmap of scars. Reminders of the victories he’d won for the Pack. His glorious ass was round and full, just begging to be groped. On the island behind him, he’d laid out a spread of poorly cooked food.

    A pile of burnt toast was stacked nearly a foot high, threatening to teeter over like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Next to it, a cauldron of soupy oatmeal sat, probably needing another twenty minutes on the stove. But the most befuddling was a plate of translucent floppy bacon, so raw that I could still hear it oink.

    “ Dritt! ” Sven said, attending to a pan on the stove. He whipped a spatula to and fro, trying to delicately flip eggs that were cemented to the pan.

    “Breakfast? You shouldn’t have,” Helmut said from behind me.

    “Good morning!” Sven said. “Did you two have a nice run?”

    “I needed a change of pace, and boy did I get it,” I said. “Took a spill and bumped my head, though.”

    “Poor thing. Helmut, you should take better care of our Grace. We want to get a lot of mileage out of her,” he said, grinning. His grin disappeared when a stubborn egg refused to give up it’s grasp on the pan. “ Lille jaevelen! ”

    I walked over to Sven, my hand resting on the small of his back. I looked into the pan and had to stifle a sigh. The eggs were smashed and smeared, burnt rubbery whites and yolks turned solid. “It’s a day full of new experiences,” I said, getting on my tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Next time put some butter in the pan before the eggs.” I gave his ass an appreciative spank and walked to the small kitchen table to sit down.

    Helmut put a mug of hot coffee in front of me. Cream and Splenda, exactly how I liked it. I let it cool, enjoying the hot ceramic between my hands.  

    Sven walked over, putting plates of food down in front of Helmut and I. Then he got his own