Page 2 of Mountain Man's Obsession

The beautiful woman gasps, looking off to the left. I follow her gaze and see a mountain lion prowling toward her. Oh, hell no. Not my angel. No fucking way.

The lion roars, making my beautiful woman whimper again and curl up in a ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. Without another thought, I charge the beast, letting out a feral roar of my own.

CHAPTERTWO

AINSLEY

Ibury my face in my trembling hands, not wanting to see the mountain lion tear me apart limb from limb. I know it’s coming. I’ve heard there were rabid bears up here, but I didn’t expect to see a mountain lion. I can hear my mother’s voice in the back of my mind, scolding me for my lack of foresight.

I was a fool for running up the mountain, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had to escape the impromptu wedding my parents arranged for me. Even thinking those words makes my stomach twist inside out. I knew they were selfish and greedy, but this is on a whole new level. Giving me away like a piece of property? Ambushing me with a wedding? Who the heck has arranged marriages these days? I’m still baffled.

One minute I was staring at my future husband, trying not to cry or throw up, and the next minute, I was off like a bullet. I didn’t think, I just ran. I ran away from it all; the unrealistic standards of my parents, my mother’s nagging voice, my father’s dismissal, the middle-aged man my father promised me to, the guests who had no idea what they were a part of.

I had to get away from everything. A sense of certainty came over me the farther I got from that awful scene. It’s my life, and it’s time I start living it. My feet carried me to the base of Wickery Mountain and didn’t stop until I tripped.

Now that I'm not running, my muscles scream at me, not to mention my wayward feet, which are bare. I didn't have time for a change of shoes before fleeing, and the four-inch monstrosities my mom made me wear were no match for hiking up a mountain. I have a sneaking suspicion that was on purpose. Anything to keep me trapped in a life I didn’t ask for.

Why did I come here?I ask myself for the tenth time. Is being eaten alive better than the fate I escaped? Honestly, maybe. I’m equally as terrified of dying the slow death of a cornered, submissive wife, kept in line by any means necessary. And I do meanany.

But death by mountain lion will be quick. I hope.

The lion roars, and I know any moment now I’ll feel teeth sinking into my skin. Maybe it’ll rip my head off first. That would be quick.

A second roar tears through the otherwise quiet night, this one coming from the opposite direction.Holy crap.I’ve never had anyone fight over me before. Go figure it’s a battle for which creature gets to devour me.

A feral energy surrounds me, making my heart race, but not just out of fear. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I peer through my fingers just in time to see some sort of large beast charging the mountain lion.

Woah.Looks like it won’t be much of a fight after all. In a blur, the unidentifiable creature tackles the mountain lion. They wrestle for a few brief and terrifying seconds. I hear gnashing of teeth and growls, though I’m not sure which beast they’re coming from.

There’s an agonizing whimper, and then a loud thud, before the mountain lion scrambles up and limps away as quickly as he can. I don’t want to look at the creature who could scare off a mountain lion, but I can’t seem to close my eyes.

The large figure turns, and I realize it’s a man. Agiganticman with broad shoulders and dark, messy hair. The moonlight hits him at an angle, casting half of his face into darkness while the other half glows in the silver light. There’s a brutal beauty in his fierce eyes. He’s untamed. Wild. It makes me want to be wild, too.

My heart thunders in my chest as he approaches me cautiously. I can’t tell if he’s stalking me so he can pounce or if he’s trying not to scare me away. Either way, I can’t bring myself to move. It’s not just my throbbing head, aching muscles, and raw, torn up feet keeping me in place. It’s his eyes. The way they’re searching mine, collecting my fears, and drawing out unrecognizable feelings.

He feels like home. Or at least what I want home to feel like. Warm. Safe. Familiar.

Tears sting my eyes, though I don't think it's out of fear. It's like I've missed him my whole life.

The massive man kneels down in front of me, looking me over for damage. His gaze is surprisingly tender as he takes stock of my injuries. It’s a stark contrast to his otherwise rough exterior and intimidating size.

“Are you okay, firefly?” he murmurs.

My heart squeezes up in my chest at his name for me. It seemed to roll off his tongue so naturally. My mystery man waits patiently for my answer, hovering his hands over me without touching me, like he's afraid I’ll break.

“Take it easy, now,” the man whispers, keeping his distance while still watching my every move. I can’t explain why I feel totally safe with him, even though we’ve only just met.

I open my mouth to say I’m fine, because I’m always fine. Great. My life is blessed and my family is perfect. We do winters in LA and summers in the Hamptons, with the occasional weekend getaway to my father’s midlife crisis home in Nowhere, Montana. At least, that’s the image I’ve been forced to project time and time again. If everything looks good on the outside, it must be good all the way through.

Instead of brushing off the stranger’s concern and plastering on a smile like I’m supposed to, I shake my head no. Peering into the hazel eyes of my protector, all of my defenses fall away. I don’t want to lie to him or feed him the same lines I do everyone else. I want him to know me, the real me.

Maybe that’s why I let the tears fall. All of my emotions from the last twenty-four hours rush to the surface, stealing my breath as they push their way out in a broken sob. I’m not even sure what I’m crying about specifically, just that the pain, betrayal, and loss are too much for me to deal with on my own.

God, I’m pathetic. I have nothing, not even shoes. I have no one, not after the stunt I pulled. If I was killed by a mountain lion, not a single person would care. Not really. My parents would be livid that they couldn’t manipulate me into marrying up, but no one would mourn me. My meaningless life would have ended, and it would be as if I never existed.

I cry for all of the things I’ve lost, all the relationships I never had, all the love that was never shown. I cry for the little girl who endured cruel punishments, crash diets, and verbal and emotional abuse. I cry until my temples throb and my throat is sore.

My savior gathers me up in his arms, cradling me to his chest. I’m shocked at first, but that gives way to a sense of safety and acceptance. My automatic response is to cling to him. I want to curl up inside of his warmth and soak up whatever strength he’s willing to give me. I don’t even notice he’s carrying me through the woods until I look around and see a cabin tucked into the corner of a clearing.

---