The Bear King's Captive: Curvy Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (25 page)

FIFTY

Hannes leaned forward in his chair, propped his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his clasped hands. Who you are, what you’ve lived through--two things he never wanted to think about.

He lifted his head and stared into the gold leaf mirror leaning on the far wall. “I was born and lived the first eighteen years of my life in this house. My sister and I were normal kids--swimming in the summer and ice fishing in the winter. 

“Our parents loved each other and us. They did everything together and never raised their voices. They had the perfect love everyone wants, but few of us deserve.” Images of his lost family dug into his gut.              

He sat back in his chair and glanced at Leah. How could he tell her what he didn’t want to admit to himself? He took a deep breath. “When I entered the military, I had the attitude I was an Otila. I learned quickly my name didn’t mean
paska
. I pushed myself hard. No one was going to order me around for long… My pride became my downfall.

“After years of dedicating myself to my country, neighbor, and God, all three betrayed me.” Anger and heartache swelled. So much pain, locked away. He’d never bared his soul to be as vulnerable as he was now. But Leah must know. She needed human--he needed her.

Sitting forward, he scooped up her hand and enfolded it within his. A peaceful energy flowed, calming his bear, easing his mind. Memories surfaced, but he felt no pain, no anguish. Leah’s strong, serene presence gave him the strength to distance himself, making him a voyeur in his own mind.

“My men captured a Russian spy carrying intel to a radical political group instigating a coup attempt against Russia’s new leader. If those documents had reached their target, the world we know wouldn’t exist.

“Russia had ended the ‘Cold War,’ as you called it, but relations never changed. They pulled troops from Afghanistan and the Soviet economy and country sank into crisis. If the coup succeeded in ousting the leader, the nuclear weapons the past dictator disarmed would have been reactivated and launched over Europe, the Middle East and the U.S.

“Before I had a chance to act on the information, we received orders to take out a national security threat. It was an ambush and the threat was my knowledge of the spy’s intel.”

Anger quickly built. “The night I arrived at Penal Colony twenty-four, the new group of prisoners I was part of watched a horrific show. I later learned it was to intimidate newcomers. Barking bulldogs lined a chain-link fence and a twenty-foot gate opened to the prisoner area. Inside, men and boys ran out of crumbling shacks with partial roofs or no doors.” He laid Leah’s hand on the bed and stood.

While he paced the room, hatred consumed him--hate for what they did and hate for what he did. He stopped in front of the window and stared at the white ground. “The gate slid open and armored trucks led through dozens of guards in riot gear. A guard immediately punched a prisoner in the face--no reason, just hit him.” Numbness pushed away the hate, fear and pain. The past played in his head.

“Prisoners defended themselves the best they could. Most were beaten with metal pipes or kicked with steel toe combat boots. The savageness was…” The raw terror and viciousness chilled him. “When the air settled, prisoners and guards lay dead--their bodies so mangled, they barely looked human.” Horrific scenes, once forgotten, flashed through his mind. So many. How would he forget them again?

He pressed on. “When not torturing prisoners, the elite sat around in their heated rooms with tables full of food, devising new ways to cause pain. We didn’t have names. We were numbers: Prisoner 10589. They tattooed numbers on the back of our knuckles as a humiliating reminder.” He rubbed the back of his hands where, for years, he scratched and burned off the degrading ink marks. Now, the scarred flesh replaced the numbers as a reminder.

“Prisoners were lab rats to see how much pain they could endure… Every second of every minute was Hell, knowing with each man taken and returned, your time was getting closer.

“I learned a lot about physical torture--especially how to withstand and inflict.” He paused. This was where it got hard. This is where he lost his soul, yet gained another. He would tell her. This is what she needed to know the most.

The camp had its own version of Dr. Frankenstein. Since my last name means bear, he thought it would be fun to see if he could create a were-bear out of me. For months, I received blood infusions from a polar bear they captured.

“Not just that, he messed with my DNA and that of the bear. He injected other serums to make my body accept a bond between man and animal. He used electrocution tactics hoping to—I don’t know what he hoped. Maybe he just enjoyed my pain. Or maybe he hoped it would stress me enough to make my body take the change. To shift.

“Every day it was more shots, more chemicals, more experimenting, more pain. My body continued to live so he never gave up. I’ll never forget the moment I realized the bastard had achieved his goal.”

Leah’s head moved. He rushed back to her side, hoping she would wake and tell him all was forgiven, everything was going to be all right. But he knew better. All would never be forgiven.

He slid into the chair next to Leah’s side and let his chin drop to his chest. Even though shielded from the worst pain, his mind knew the suffering he had created. That day, someone lost a son, father, or brother. He lost his soul.

He held Leah’s hand tightly. Without her beside him, he couldn’t do this. She gave him a reason to live, hope for redemption.

“A group of us were tearing down a shack on a day the sun beat down relentlessly. An old, skin and bones man passed out and fell against a stack of cinder blocks, knocking them toward a prison gang member. The punk didn’t get a scratch, but he took to kicking and beating the old man… Others gathered around to watch.

“Nobody did anything. I couldn’t stand by and let the old man be beaten into a lump of flesh. I jumped in and took him away from the pounding. I didn’t think about the consequences, just reacted… The kid said I was ‘interfering’ with fairness, not letting him even the score. It was an accident. A goddamn accident!”

Hannes turned away and wiped his hands over his face. Why was he telling her this? It would only scare and drive her farther away. But he had to finish. He’d come too far to stop.

“If the kid wasn’t able to get revenge from the old man, then he’d get it from me. He reached into the rubble stack and pulled out a plank with rusted nails driven into one end. I didn’t want any trouble. I tried to walk away. His first swing dragged a nail down my forehead, nearly taking out my eye…” Hannes rubbed the scar over his left eye.

“At the end, I pinned him against the side of a shack with his neck, and life, in my hands. All I had to do was…let go. Open my hands and walk away. But I-I couldn’t… His eyes filled with hate. He said how he would rip me open and feed me to the dogs, while I was still alive.

“The anger in me doubled, but it didn’t all come from me. I felt another source waken inside my chest. Like having an alien life inside your body. I squeezed my hands around his neck to make him shut up. White hair sprouted from my arms and hands. A strength I’d never known flowed through me. Scared out of my mind, I threw him to the ground and walked back to the shack before anyone else noticed.

“But he wasn’t through. He charged from behind, and I flipped him over with ease. He landed one foot on a cinder block…he twisted…and plunged back into the rubble pile, impaled by nails and splintered wood stakes.” The red streams racing toward him in his dreams made sense.

“Gang members challenged me to fight to the death. To stay alive and keep my sanity, I had to bury my humanness. Lock it away from reality. Fighting with this new inner strength became my existence. If a day passed without blood on my hands, I questioned if I were still alive…”

Falling silent, he laid his forehead on Leah’s hand. He lamented a life wasted on pride and hate, and a world filled with malevolence and apathy. He prayed for forgiveness and release. A soft voice whispered in his head, let it go.

He couldn’t. Suffering was all he knew. If it were gone, what would take its place?

Don’t be afraid. Let it flow away.

A cauldron of despair, anger and hopelessness bubbled up from deep inside. This black pit--his self-punishment for his weakness and failure to do the right thing--exploded, releasing pent-up emotions, hatred and guilt, leaving a cleansed soul seeking salvation.

Serenity enveloped him--no hate, no grief, no regret. He was given a second chance to do things right. He kissed the hand of the woman he wanted beside him every day and night. Chills ran down his arms. Such a foreign idea, but one that filled him with happiness.

Hannes lifted his head from Leah’s hand and wiped moisture from his cheek. He looked at her tranquil face. Not wanting to wake her, but desperately needing to touch her, he smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear then brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek.

With a lighter heart, he continued his journey. “By taking lives, I began to cherish life. I realized the things that mattered had nothing to do with power or money or physical strength. They had to be earned, not won.” Sadness filled his heart. Never could he earn her trust. He was damaged goods, never deserving happiness. He pressed her hand to his quivering lips.

“I spent five years in that Hell, unable to control the change taking my body. The inner animal grew stronger with every day spent as a lab specimen. I learned to handle what I could hiding the other part of me, hoping the doctor would give up and find something else to fill his demented curiosity. Until I found a way out.

“Once a week, prisoners put what they wanted cleaned inside several plastic barrels lined up along the fence at the front gate. During a new prisoner show, I noticed when the guard held open the gate for the trucks to enter, he happened to be standing at the end of that row of barrels.

“The night the new arrivals were due, guards shined their boots and cleaned their guns, meaning those in the watchtowers focused more on themselves than the prisoners. I slipped through the shadows to the front gate, slid into the second to last barrel, and waited for the nightmare to begin.

“When the prisoners arrived, the dogs lined the fence and started barking--inches from my face. I heard the motor brigade drive in, focusing attention on the center of camp.

“I pushed out an oval shaped piece of the plastic barrel’s backside I cut with a chiseled nail. With the dogs along the fencerow, no one entering the gate or on the other side of the fence could see me.

“The gate guard stood at attention one barrel away. I pulled him down behind the barrels and snapped his neck.” His eyes grew wide in alarm, and he looked at her face. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear that.

“I ripped off the guard’s coat, boots and pants and put them on. I slung his hat on my head and stood at the gate like I belonged there. When the last of the procession passed, I marched the gate shut and locked it. After the activities began, I walked off the prison grounds.

“With the help from Winston, I recovered, physically. I wrote a letter to the Defense of Prisoner Rights detailing the cruelty and violence in the camp. After an investigation, the camp closed.

“But there was so much more to do. I searched for each of my team members and Lt. K and I discovered the two traitors. He took care of them justly…as far as I’m concerned. The first part of my mission was finished. The rest would come with time.

“After that, I spent two years in the States working with a ‘job for hire’ organization. I learned everything I needed to know to build a new life around vengeance and justice. 

“While in America, I developed a passion for the white sand beaches and warm ocean waters. When it was time for me to go out on my own, I bought a plot of land in the hills of Costa Brava and began my lonely existence.

“I reassembled the team and started working on the second half of my plan. Over the next several years, the only missions I accepted were ones that made an impact on my enemies. Their downfall fueled my reason for existence. Every job I completed picked away at the bastards, allowing the good and honest to set deeper roots. At least, that’s what I hoped for.”

FIFTY-ONE

When Hannes saw Winston enter the room carrying a tray with dinner plates, he stood and stretched.

“Any change?”

“In her? No.” Hannes dragged his chair away from Leah’s bedside.

“What other change is there?” Win set the tray on the small table between the two chairs.

Hannes smiled. “Nothing, never mind. Let’s eat.” He took a sandwich in hand. “I never thanked you for stopping Korhonen from…killing Leah. I think the bastard meant to do it. Too bad you didn’t aim for his head.”

Winston frowned. “You know we do not kill unless absolutely necessary.” He looked down at his plate. “By the way,” he pushed potatoes from one side of his plate to the other. “Are you familiar with Leah’s childhood?”

“I know her father shot the Columbian drug lord Roclas in the face before Roclas killed him. That must be why he wears the eye patch.”

“Roclas killed her family?” Winston cut into his meat. “That explains quite a lot.”

“Explains what?”

Winston swallowed then laid his fork on the plate. “Following Leah’s past has been difficult. Many of the documents the U.S. government requires do not exist. It is as if she suddenly appeared from nowhere.”

Hannes shrugged. “I suddenly disappeared once.”

“This is nothing like your situation, Hannes. She does not have corrupt members of the government wanting her dead because she can bring them to ruin.” Winston glanced at Leah and lowered his voice. “I came across an article about a police detective’s family being murdered twenty years ago. The only survivor was the eleven-year-old daughter. She was so traumatized that she could not speak. There are no records of a Leah Belinda Kallus after that time.”

Hannes rubbed a hand over his eyes. His heart hurt, now understanding what she lived through. “My God, Winston. She mentioned she was unadoptable. She must’ve been in the Witness Protection program the U.S. has. At eleven years old.” He sat quietly, contemplative. “Roclas issued a bounty on her, but I don’t know completely why.”

Winston raised his brows. “Yes, $10 million.”

“Why that much?”

“Consider this, Hannes. My sources mentioned that ten years ago, someone with the code name LBK hacked into his bank and took millions. Also that year, thousands of charities in the U.S. received unprecedented donations. Especially those dealing with the foster care system and children in general.”

Hannes grinned. “So she played Robin Hood to get back at him.” He shook his head in awe of her. “She lived the life of a vagabond, Win. She never let money influence who she was. And she was smart enough to know money won’t keep you safe from those who want to do harm. They will always find a way to get to you.”

“Ah, yes. Speaking of that, have you noticed the marks around her neck?”

“I did see bruises that were older. I was going to ask her about those later.” Then he realized she received that injury while on the ship. On his watch. Did he already fail to protect her? Could he have read his second-in-command so incorrectly that he put her life in danger?

After his conversation with Lt. K in his cabin the night before they docked, he realized how many nuggets Lt. K was short of a full meal. He kept Leah and the boy with him thereafter. But maybe he was too late in getting to her. His bear roared in anger. Someone hurt his mate. White fur covered his cheeks and arms. He could hardly breathe from the pressure within to shift.

“Hannes,” Win’s soothing voice filled him. “Calm yourself, beast. She is safe with us here and now. We will never let her be hurt again. Calm. Calm.”

Hannes took a deep breath. The animal relented, for now.

Win frowned. “Hannes, it is time we spoke about what happened to you and how to deal with it. You can no longer pretend nothing has changed about you. We know nothing about your other half. If it were only me, I would not care, but with Leah in the picture, I will not allow it to hurt her.”

Another angry roar reverberated in his head. “It’s telling me it would never hurt Leah. She is his/our mate.” Hannes looked at his confidante. “Any idea what that means?”

“Since you returned from your ordeal, I have done a lot of research and talked with many people. I have theories and resources we need to explore. I suspect things are confusing and you don’t understand what the beast is trying to communicate to you. Words and feelings that are foreign to you.”

Leah moaned and rolled her head to the side.             

“We will continue with this when it is time. Right now, you must see to your
mate
.”

Hannes scowled at his word usage, but immediately knelt at her side. “Nice to see you again.” He wiped sweat from her forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Not bad considering. How much medicine did you give me?”

Hannes hid his face from Winston and mouthed the words “a lot.” She grinned and took a long blink. He laid his hand on the side of her face and turned it toward him.

He searched her eyes. “I need to ask you a question and I want you to tell me the truth.”

“Okay.” Her smiling eyes turned worried.

His finger lightly glided around her puffy eye, over her chin and along her jaw line. Hannes started to speak then stopped. He tried again. “Did Korhonen attack you on the ship?” He looked at the old and new marks on her neck.

Leah bit her bottom lip. “Yes.”

His bear erupted. This time Hannes was ready for it. He curled his hands into fists and placed them on the bed. Rage and hatred consumed his mind. His body trembled. There would be Hell to pay.

Leah slid her hand over to his. He pressed his lips against her skin. “I’m so sorry. I left you alone…”

Leah squeezed his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it was. He promised to not let anyone find her, to protect her, and he failed. “I will not let him hurt you again.”

She looked at him, eyes full of terror. “Don’t leave me alone.”

Hannes leaned closer and brushed her bangs back. “No, Princess, never again. K’s punishment will wait until you’re better.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and looked to be in deep consternation, as if trying to make a decision. Her eyes twinkled for a moment. “So you really are a cute, cuddly polar bear.”

His cheeks reddened and he tried to hide his smile. “Look, woman, I’m a soldier. I don’t do cute and cuddly.”

“Au contrair, mon cheri,” her smile sparkled, “you make one sexy, snuggly fuzz ball.”

Winston cleared his throat. “Do not worry yourselves about me. I am not listening.”

Hannes gave him a scowl then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen and frowned. “I need to take this.” He looked at Leah. “Is it all right if I leave Winston with you for a minute?”

“Yes.”

Hannes turned to Winston. “Please stay with her until I get back?”

Winston stood, wide eyed. “Absolutely.”

Hannes answered his phone and walked out of the room.

Leah drew her brows together and looked at Winston. “Why’s he so relaxed and nice suddenly?”

He shook his head. “I do not know, but I have not heard the word ‘please’ come from his mouth in years. I believe you may be a large part of the reason.”

Leah looked away and felt her cheeks warm. She rolled her head to Winston and smiled. “I know. I saw it in my dreams.”

“What do you know? Saw what?” He held her cold hand.

“Who he is. What he lived through? It was horrid, Winston, what they did to him. You know about his…alter ego?”

Winston nodded. “I must say, I did not take the shock as well as you have, my dear.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “When I was a kid, I watched a TV show about this guy who turned into a green monster when he got mad. So the idea isn’t really that new to me. I’m glad he’s not green and hulking though. I’ve decided if he wants me, I’ll take him just as he is.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Everything I thought about him was wrong. He’s a good person who’s bent the rules because it’s the right thing to do.” Her voice weakened. She felt the nagging pull on her brain. “It’s okay now--he’s not a bad person.”

He smiled at her. “No, he is not. He is one of a few remaining men who is succeeding in making a difference. His means may not be the best, but it is what he knows.”

“That’s why you’ve stayed with him, not because of loyalty to his parents.”

Winston released a deep breath. “Since the death of Catalina several years ago, I fear I have been the only reason he chooses to remain alive. He cannot tolerate the idea I might have fun if he was not around.” Winston winked at her.

“Who is Catalina?”

His eyes turned sad. “Not long after Ms. Lyyli passed away, Hannes met a Spanish Jezebel--breathtakingly beautiful with silk midnight hair, cocoa skin, and hypnotic eyes. She gambled with lives and danced with fire. She played Hannes well. He bought her everything: jewelry, furs, and cars. But she never returned the love he gave.

“She would be gone for days, then one night show up and put him under her spell again, then be gone by morning. He refused to give up on her. He truly believed one day she would devote herself to him, as he had to her. He held that hope for years as she came and went.

“I suspected she had several men, and played them all. I knew there would come a time when everything around her would come crashing down, and Hannes would be collateral damage.

“After her death, I have never seen him with another woman. He lives in a self-induced Hell--never forgiving himself or her. I see his sadness. He calls her name late at night as she haunts his dreams.”

Dreams. Leah understood his pain. Her dreams were the only reminders of her past. But she got the better end of the stick. 'Tis worse to have loved and lost than never loved at all. How could she have been so wrong about him?

He was the farthest thing from the womanizer she took him for. She needed to apologize for her harsh words on the ship. He was so gorgeous, she imagined women throwing themselves at him. What man would resist that temptation? Hannes.

He cared for others’ lives in a world that couldn’t care less. He believed in justice for those wrongly injured, like her and her family. Maybe he would help her take care of Roclas, once and for all.

“So you understand my surprise when Hannes rang saying we were to have a lady guest.”

Leah’s hopes sank. How could she fight a ghost for Hannes’ heart? “He still loves her then.”

“To a degree. He has not spoken her name since we arrived, awake or asleep. I think someone else has taken her place. Remember what Lyyli said about being inside an Otila man’s heart.”

His world revolves around the ones he loves.

She wanted to believe that. Under the lingering influence of the drug, she grew sleepy again, but she had to know. “Why are you telling me this?”

He patted her hand. “Because, my child, you are going to save one man’s soul from Hell and find the love you have so desperately longed for.”

Her eyes closed.

Winston squeezed her hand. “Follow your heart.”