Grizzly (3 page)

His head jerked in her direction, his nostrils flaring.

“What?” he demanded.

“What?” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and turned from him.

“You said something.” His rough grumble wasn’t helping.

She clamped her thighs together tightly as her pussy creamed and her clit started to swell. Absolutely no man in her entire life made her feel this way. He awoke a sexual fever inside her that she’d thought null and void. For fuck sakes. She was attracted to the David Tennant version of The Doctor. Why the hell would this grumpy bastard elicit such hunger inside her?

Sorscha was so lost in her musings she didn’t feel the hot breath of William against her neck until his powerful chest pressed her against the counter. The edge pushed against her mound. Closing her eyes, she wrestled back the arousal that snapped hard and fast to life inside her.

“You did. I know you’re lying, Sorscha,” he growled. He brushed the hair off her shoulder and leaned into her ear. “I always know...”

The jackass was teasing her. Shoving back against him, she felt the thick steel between his legs. Momentarily shocked by feeling the huge erection against her backside, she faltered as she turned on him, shoving at his chest.

He didn’t move.

That didn’t surprise her.

“Don’t,” she squeaked.

“Don’t what?” he rumbled, the large paw of a hand gripping her hip.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

William’s lips curved up into a sexy grin. The sexiest grin she had ever seen. Her fingers started to curl into his tight T-shirt and she seriously considered grinding her now very wet cunt against his powerful thigh.

“You couldn’t take it,” he whispered against her ear.

She sucked in a breath of shock and he was gone. Feeling his heat leave her shocked her system and she stumbled forward.

“Go get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”

Her bearings gathered, she lifted her chin and stated simply, “No.”

After all this time, he was going to start fucking with her now? Her body and her heart couldn’t take that. He was a fuck’em and leave’em kinda guy. The type of guy she wasn’t safe with and the reason she was still a damned virgin. Yes, she knew it was silly and stupid. First, she didn’t have the time to just go fucking around. She was either behind a computer at work, or worked at a computer at home. Yes, she had a subscription to Pornhub. She had no choice. She was ridiculously curious and those male-on-male videos were damned hot.

She dared catch William’s unamused gaze.

“Yes, go now. If I have to count to five and you’re not in your room, I will toss you over my shoulder and dress you myself. We are leaving this house; I will not tolerate you being a brat today, little one,” William smirked.

Sorscha was thrown off, Willam’s smile lit up her body and she felt it from the tingling of her scalp, to the tips of her toes. Pink lighted up her cheeks, she could feel it.

A brat and little?

Wait...he had never called her that before. Looking away, she poured her shots of espresso and downed them quickly.

“One, two, three...”

“Fuck you. I’m going!” she yelled.

Slamming into his arm for good measure as she passed him, she could swear she heard him chuckle as she kicked her bedroom door shut.

“Asshole,” she murmured.

“I heard that, little one.” he rumbled just outside her door.

She screamed and slapped the closed door, wishing it was his face. The sting hurt. Taking a step back, she whimpered and rubbed her palm against her pants.

There was that chuckle again, fading away down the hall.

What was his deal today?

––––––––

W
illiam’s room was at the back of the house in a separate wing. It was spacious and quiet, giving him a good view of the woods out back. It had its own open living room, bedroom and bathroom. Shaking his head, he entered the kitchen area and filled a glass with cold water, downing it quickly. Sorscha wound him up a lot, but in a good way. She’d grown into a stunning woman over the years. It was a pleasure to be around her, for many reasons.

God, he could eat a horse, or Sorscha. He swallowed, throwing those thoughts to the back of his mind. Patting his crotch, he growled at the arousal she’d caused. It was difficult enough trying to let her think he didn’t care. Old spoken words rang in his mind and he smiled.

There was more to Sorscha Walker than met the eye. Sadness filled him that she was a lonely soul, living an existence which literally caged her in this tiny town, working for a company she knew nothing about.

They needed time together; times were about to change. Sorscha needed to hear the truth, not from her parents but from someone in touch with reality─and that was him. Of course it wouldn’t go well; there’d be moments of anger, of hatred and denial. William, as he was called in this world by his employers, would sit there listening to her go ballistic, shouting of lies and betrayal. She wouldn’t love him anymore. The crush she held for him-oh yes, he knew about it. Well, all those would die a sudden death and William would be her biggest enemy. More so than the hacker who had broken her firewall three times in the recent past.

He’d had worse, much worse in his long life. A twenty-four-year old woman, admittedly a sexy one, couldn’t compare to angry elves or orcs. There were his own kind too, Celts with reputations of legend. He’d faced them all.

The scent of steel drifted to his nostrils. Over the years he had completely remade his weapons from sturdier stuff as he called it, replacing his lost iron sword. A long sword and two short swords rested in his wardrobe. He opened the door and pulled out the long sword, raising it to eyelevel, pointing it to the door. A blood groove stretched almost to the tip. A hilt of leather molded to his fingers, fitting in his palm like a glove. The weight was perfect as he twisted it, his eyes caressing the double-edged blade. It was longer than his old sword by a good six inches. Shame he had never used it. What he wouldn’t give to kill something right now. The urge to kill never left him; it was the only thing he was good at. Killing and following orders, of course.

Over the next few minutes he wrapped the three swords in cloth, tying them securely. He gathered his old clothes, now dirty with dust, and bundled them up too. He left the room, going downstairs to the basement. Laying the swords and the bundle beneath the boiler, something caught his attention. William listened. Carefully he pushed the two bundles into a recess and then walked to the outer wall, where an air grate opened up to the outside world. He fingered his beard.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

A low snarl left his throat, threatening to burst into a thunderous growl. Without thought he ran at the boiler. It was a façade; the real one was in the utility room next to the family kitchen. It fell into the wall, and the wall itself shattered to reveal a false room behind. A dim light shone through the newly-made door as he clambered in and stared at the mirror. Picking up the swords and clothes-wrapped bundles, he tossed them into the mirror. They vanished.

“Fuck!”

Sounds were now hitting his senses, giving his forehead a memorable pain. William turned and rushed up to the kitchen, making his way outside. Distant trees surrounded the house with only one way in and out, the long driveway to the main road. It was hidden by the forest as it wound its way to town. Looking down and slightly to the left, he found the tiny stones peeping out from the earth. William was some hundred yards out from the main frontage of the house. The ring of protection was intact. His presence made it glow. Thousands of tiny dots lit up the house. It had been put here by a warlock, Carl Walker, to protect Sorscha. But now an enemy raged toward them. It sounded like the cry of hundreds of knotting wolves unable to retract. Soon, in maybe five minutes, they would converge on the house. The ring of protection would hold them, but not for long. The scent followed them─sulfur. It was a warlock, a powerful one.

William turned and ran, pulling the door closed behind him. Up he went, to Sorscha’s room. He stopped. Listening again, he ran to the window at the end of the landing. Men were coming, a hundred or so. They weren’t men to him; he could see through the glamour. Orcs of all kinds: tall, short, ugly─they were all ugly. They were armed to the teeth, running through the trees, rushing to the house. Two minutes out. No sign of the warlock, but these bastard creatures were under orders, sniffing him out, sniffing Sorscha out. Time to go.

The door swung open and cracked against the wall.

“What the fuck! William, you broke my bedroom door.”

He stopped dead. She stood in a towel which she dropped in surprise or in need. That scent again, hers, aroused, from deep within her. He couldn’t help but sniff the air, his cock growing hard in his jeans in response.

She didn’t realize the effect she had on him. She was so hot, even for her size. To him she was perfection. Standing five foot five inches tall, with curves to die for, she looked at him with those deep blue eyes. Her mouth was open.

“Well, explain. I could have been naked.”

Inwardly he grinned. His eyes ached with the vision she gave him. The bra and panties she had on left nothing to his imagination. Damn Orcs. If they weren’t coming to kill them he would take her right here, right now on her bed. He would leave a scent of such sexual potency on her sheets she wouldn’t sleep for a month. Eyes locked, cock burning in tight restraints, he just stared at her.

“William!” The harshness of her tone woke him from his sexual daydream. “What the hell is that noise?”

William had to stir himself more. He shook his head and balled both fists, his fingers squeezed to the point of the blood leaving them.

Sorscha was moving to the window.

“Sorscha, we have to go!”

“Go? Go where? What are you rambling on about?” She was at the window.

“Cover yourself. I don’t want them seeing you.” He came up behind her with a view to seeing the rampaging enemy, but being close only served to arouse him more. He grabbed her waist and pushed against her. Her buttocks pressed to his thighs, his cock grew harder again. She responded by pushing back. William looked over her shoulder to the ample breasts as they nestled in her bra, wiggling at him as her body moved.

“Fuck, Will. Who are they and what do they want? There’s hundreds.”

William stood by her, almost filling the window.

“They are coming for you, Sorscha.”

“Me? What the hell do they want with me and why so bloody many?”

“Because of him.”

The orcs stopped. William knew she saw them as men; their glamour worked on her.

“I didn’t tweet I was home alone, Will, so help me the fuck out here. Why do they want me?”

The necromancer, the strongest of his kind, walked up to the ring of stones.

“His name is Cormadine Osmaldis and he wants you because you are someone of importance.”

“Cormadine what? And I’m a fricking geek, Will. He looks like the master. Importance, me?”

“Very important.”

“What are they going to do?”

“Your parents put a protection spell on the house to stop him getting in.”

“My parents. Holy shit, Will, we have to find them. They are out there somewhere.”

William watched as Osmaldis lowered his hood, his face revealed. His eyes looked up and his arms rose straight out as he pointed to Sorscha.

“We have to find them, Will. Please, we have to.”

“If he’s here then they are dead.”

Her body tensed against his as she turned in the restricted space his large body allowed her.

“Dead? No. Why would you say that, you grumpy fuck? There’s no need.”

“They are dead, Sorscha, and we have to go. He’s going to lower the protection and send those beasts in here.”

Tears were running down her cheeks.

“How do you know they’re dead? You don’t know that.”

He stood firm as she pounded his chest with her tightly clenched fists.

“He killed them and those orcs sniffed you out using your parents’ scent.”

“Orcs? What are you talking about? They are men.”

“No. Look deeper. Look!” With gentleness, he turned her.

The necromancer lifted the protection. The tiny lights of the stones faded and the glamour dropped.

“Holy shit, are those...?”

“Orcs. Let’s move!”

“Crap!”

With no more protection, the orcs charged, issuing a cry of determination. They crushed the flower beds and bounced up the walls, scaling the house with ease. As they came Marok, the orc commander, appeared, instantly recognizable. William growled, the guttural sound, echoing in the room. The huge orc, as tall as William, came to the necromancer’s side, issuing commands to his many soldiers.

An orc hit the window, breaking the glass with his sharp, single-edged blade. He crouched in the window frame as William pulled Sorscha back, shielding her.

“Run, Sorscha. Run like the wind is at your back because I am the east wind and I destroy anything that gets in my way.”

“Sherlock, season three, ‘His Last Vow!’”

William winked.

“Run to the basement, to the hole in the wall. There’s a secret room.”

The orcs were coming, rushing into the room.

“Whatever you hear, whatever you feel at your back don’t be afraid. It will be me, protecting you. Now go.”

She nodded, turned and ran.

William growled as he saw her grab the door frame and disappear to the right. Within seconds he shifted. He grew in size, filling the room; steel-like fur covered his whole body. Limbs stretched and hurt like hell. Huge long teeth grew, his eyes expanded, his jaw opened and bit the first orc in two. His huge bear paws swiped in all directions, ripping and tearing orc flesh. His large bulk moved with grace and pounded out the door with the momentum of a bulldozer. The doorframe splintered and the wall broke, shattering as he ran full pelt down the landing. Sorscha was already at the bottom of the stairs, heading for the kitchen.

Orc after orc rushed in behind him Blades cut him, stabbing his big fat rump. He filled the stairs and they jumped on him, only to be flung into the walls by his rage. In the kitchen, he saw Sorscha round the table, running for the basement door. Orcs piled in through every window. The main and back doors flew open. Short spears pierced William the bear as he charged down the short hall, the walls crumbling around him as his huge shoulders pushed and knocked. Orcs were torn, crushed beneath his bulk as he entered the kitchen.