A Curve of Claw (Wiccan-Were-Bear Book One)

By R.E. Butler

Natural born wiccan Elizabeth Xavier likes her life just the way it is. She has a beautiful lake house. Power to rival just about anyone. And seven men that cater to her every desire. What she didn't expect was to be asked to perform a binding ceremony in the local were-bear den and tie herself forever to a were-bear as a permanent guard. She didn't like anyone telling her what to do, and giving a man a supernatural tie to her life meant he'd probably want to boss her around, too. Or tell her she couldn't enjoy her casual relationships with the other men in her life. Guilt is a strong motivator, as is the reminder that she was abducted several months earlier, so she goes into the den with the intention of securing a guard and keeping him at arms' length. Too bad no one told her that were-bears don't like to be kept at arms' length.
When Elizabeth realizes that more than just her personal protection is up for grabs from the bear she binds herself to, can she go through with it, even if it means losing everything she enjoyed about her life? Will she go back on her word and destroy the alliance between the two groups, or does happiness lay in the underground den in the arms of a were-bear?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.E. Butler
• Release date: Nov 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465795335

R.E. Butler

I write for the readers who stay up past their bedtime, telling themselves "just one more chapter" long after the lights should be out. The ones who fall in love with fictional characters, escape into magical worlds, and crave protective heroes who would do anything for their women. My love for paranormal romance started as a young mom reading ebooks in the middle of the night, drawn to the monsters who were more than villains—they were heroes. Inspired by shifters and fated mates, I set a goal in 2011 to publish my first book. Over 100 books later, I'm still creating the kind of stories I love to read. Now, I spend my days dreaming up protective heroes, captivating heroines, and the happily ever afters they fight for, often while walking with my pup coworker and plotting my next book. I write for readers who love adventure, passion, and a touch of magic—because I'm still that girl under the covers, reading by flashlight, lost in another world.

Book preview

A Curve of Claw

Wiccan-Were-Bear Book One

By R. E. Butler

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Excerpt from A Flash of Fang

Other Books by R. E. Butler

About the Author

Copyright

Chapter One

I tapped my pen back and forth absently on the blotter and looked at the door. I could hear Melo clomping down the tiled hallway and knew he would fill the doorway with his bulky body and then he’d fill the room with his shit-eating grin.

As expected, his large leather covered shoulders brushed against either side of the doorway and his curly blond hair hung in a riot of ringlets around his head.

Hey kitten, what’s doing? he drawled, stalking into the room and coming around my desk. His dark eyes looked predatory and expectant.

Hey, Mel. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. Moving away, he dropped onto the leather couch with a thud; his body sprawled out like he’d been arranged by a photographer.

Equinox is coming up; Midas wanted me to check in with you for supplies. Midas was their tiger king and a heavenly hot piece of tiger ass himself, although he was currently shacked up with a tigress from another pride.

As South Corner of the ruling coven for Northern Ohio, and one of only two natural born Wiccans in the Midwest, I was a pretty hot commodity. The other natural Wiccan, north and most powerful, was my grandmother. She’s over two hundred, but she looked to be in her mid-thirties. I was technically only eighteen, although I’d been eighteen for three years now. A natural Wiccan was also known as a hereditary Wiccan, one that was born from a Wiccan. An unnatural Wiccan was a human who could tap into the supernatural world in some minute way like being able to cast a small spell.

Five were-groups and one very large vampire coven lived in our area. The five were-groups had allied themselves to our coven and the vampire coven had allied itself to me personally. During our celebrations, each group sent guards for the corners, except for the vampires. Being my guard had the perk of often being invited into my bed later. For some reason, I was always a little horny after I called power.

I’d been South Corner for three years, since I first turned eighteen and came into my full power. I’d been around the weres and the vamps for long enough that I had some pretty serious standing friendships with them and bedmates whenever I was in the mood. But nothing more than playing, because I wasn’t ready for that life. What I had with the men was casual. Occasional dates, no serious expectations, and no overnights. I didn’t expect to get married for a while. A long while. Mostly because I had this thing called long-life, which in the simplest terms meant that when I came into my powers, my aging slowed down to a crawl. I only aged one year for every twelve years that passed on the calendar. As a natural Wiccan, my grandmother also had that same power, but the unnatural Wiccans in the coven did not and aged normally. While my grandmother was technically the oldest Wiccan in the coven, she didn’t look it. It happened to be the same way for all were-groups. Vamps, of course, lived forever but had to drink blood and died at dawn. I think I’d rather just age slowly. It also meant that age wasn’t really anything you could gauge. You could think the guy you were boning was twenty-five, but he was actually a few hundred years old.

I swiveled in my desk chair. March twenty-first was coming up damn fast and I was starting to feel twitchy. That meant that something big was going to happen. Maybe a new member to the coven or a baby being born, or a death of course. Here’s hoping it’s not my death.

I’d love you to be my guard, Mel, if you’re offering. We’ll need four more, of course, for my grandma and Bitty and Gwen and then the coven as a whole.

I’m so glad you didn’t ask me to be anyone’s guard but yours, Elizabeth. His lush lips split into a wide smile. He was pure male. Sex and power and heat, and a damn beautiful white tiger when he shifted. Come over here and give me some honey, sweet.

Although we weren’t alone in the offices that belonged to the coven in the back of the Cleveland Mother Earth Store, aka Witch Central, I couldn’t resist.

Gathering my broomstick skirt as I crossed the small office, I climbed onto his lap and his large hands went straight up underneath the fabric and he gripped my thighs as I lowered my mouth to his. His moan was throaty and deep and it made my body light up like he’d plugged me into a socket. Our tongues tangled, our bodies heated, and he pushed me down onto his denim clad erection, sending a delicious shiver through my body.

His mouth moved down my throat and he growled. I fucking love how you smell when you’re turned on.

With the sound of tearing fabric, my panties were toast and he ran his thumbs on the juncture inside my legs, not quite pussy not quite hip, but the promise of wicked things to come. Then I heard the sound of heels clicking on the tile. That meant one of the Wiccans running the shop was coming this way. He growled when I pulled away from him and sat down on the couch to adjust my skirt.

I liked those, I pulled the torn panties all the way off and tossed them in the trash.

I told you I think panties are an inconvenient invention. I think I also told you that if you have them on, I’ll rip them off on principal. He palmed his erection and adjusted himself as one of the coven knocked on the doorway.

Apologies, Mistress, but there’s a young couple out in the store that would like a blessing for their newborn.

Mortals. I stretched out the kink in my back, wishing that Melo had either not shown up right now or had more time to work out the kink in the center of my body, and said, Set them up in the reading room and I’ll be there in ten.

She nodded and walked away. Our coven ranged in age from late teens to late eighties, if you didn’t count my grandmother. Mortals, aka humans, came into the shop all the time looking for various things. A blessing, a reading for their future, or supplies to try their own stuff.

Even my fastest quickie is longer than ten minutes, he groused, unfolding his body from the couch and standing up to his full six foot even.

I tilted my face up for a kiss and he granted it but he wasn’t as happy as he’d been when he’d walked in. I wondered when I’d decided that my guards could just come in and get a lay whenever they felt like it. Maybe there was a meeting and I didn’t get the memo.

Can I see you later? He asked.

I’ll call if I can. Mishka needs to feed and I put him off last night because of, well, my complicated life.

His lip twitched. Yeah, and you’re usually too tired after he feeds from you to do anything else. Except with him, lay unspoken on the air between us.

Look, Mel, I never promised anything to anyone. I don’t like the guilt trips. They’re not a good color on you.

His coat swung around his waist as he turned for the door. The pause at the doorway told me I wasn’t going to like what he said, and I was right. Maybe I’m just ready for more than a fuck and a goodbye.

Well hell. When the playboy of the group was thinking about exclusivity, then all was not right with the world.

Awesome.

Chapter Two

Blessings, by and large, were very simple. Unless the person was particularly evil or had an out of whack aura, of course. Then, mostly, the blessing would be rejected but the humans wouldn’t necessarily know one way or the other. This, fortunately, was not one of those times, and I joined the young couple and their tiny little girl in the reading room, and blessed her and their entire family.

After I finished the blessing, I sat alone in the expansive room where we did most human-based business. It was a circular room, with floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with various stereotypical witchy type objects and stacks of old books. The floor was a dark hardwood that was well worn and beautiful with scattered dark wool rugs across the surface. There were several long couches and small tables arranged near a fireplace with a dark stone mantel, and in the center of the room was a round table on an ornately carved base with matching chairs around it. Across the table lay colorful silks and an old stone bowl. This was what we referred to as a human room. We didn’t need any of the items in the room to do anything simple like we might do for a human; it was all for show. The books were not supernatural in any way; the objects were curios from pawn shops and trips like colorful glass globes, bowls and vases. But if you tell a human that you can give them a blessing on a street corner with no prep, they tend to think you’re a fraud. The human