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  GRIZZLY

  THE REALM

  BOOK ONE

  EBOOK EDITION

  Copyright 2014 by Bonnie Bliss

  Bonnie Bliss asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed within are the invention of the author’s imagination. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from Irish Wolf Publishing or the author.

  Copyright © 2014 Bonnie Bliss

  www.irishwolfpublishing.com

  http://www.bonnieblissauthor.com

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Design by LMK Graphics

  Formatting by Mr Bliss

  Published by

  Irish Wolf Publishing

  Edited by Kasi Alexander

  Also by Bonnie Bliss

  Dominance

  Chains and Chocolate

  Whips and Wax

  The Christmas Feast

  (A Dominance Holiday Short Story)

  Kitten’s Fantasies

  The Postman

  Twisted Oz

  Twisted Dreams

  Twisted Ropes

  The Holiday Series

  Bondage on the 4th of July

  Halloween Submission

  A Slave for Christmas

  Bound

  (The Complete Holiday Doms Collection)

  The Men of the North Series

  The Viking’s Prize

  The Vikings’ Conquest

  The Vikings’ Claim

  The Stolen warrior

  The Realm Series

  Frozen

  Grizzly

  Stand Alone Titles

  Cuff Me Santa

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Contact Info

  About the Author

  GRIZZLY

  Chapter One

  Valentines Eve

  Carl Walker knew his wife like no one else did. A romantic, she was down to earth, and loved simple things. This was their first time alone in twenty-three years, ever since the birth of their daughter Sorscha. A huge smile adorned his face as he listened to Annie sing in the shower. This was special. Valentine ’s Day was special, Annie was special. The night was closing in; snow had fallen the day before. Nothing major, only an inch or so.

  The Happy Inn Motel stood less than fifteen miles from their house. The perfect getaway, yet if a crisis call came, they could be home in twenty minutes or so. Carl pulled his robe closed and stood by the window. The main road was deserted; light snow had started again. Distant trees hid the sinking sun and the night waved it goodbye. Deep blues and purples filled the sky where clouds floated like tissues. The sun was gone in a few minutes, just as the shower stopped and Annie walked into the room.

  “Hey, handsome, we should do this more often.” She flashed open her robe, grinning like the Cheshire cat, and pulled it together again.

  “Yes we should. You can leave it open for me.”

  “Oh, really, you are a naughty boy.”

  “I’ve paid my dues. Flash me again, my sexy hobbit.”

  It was a nickname she called herself, standing only five foot two with what she referred to as firm hobbit thighs. Carl loved her to bits; they’d been married thirty-five years, unable to have a child until Sorscha literally dropped in their lap. It had been a struggle at first, coming to terms with the great responsibility. Having to deal with the protection and the isolation. Despite everything, though, Sorscha had become a beautiful young woman, a daughter to be proud of. They would both miss her when she was gone.

  Annie wiggled and loosened the robe, flashing again. At fifty-five years of age, to him she looked as beautiful as the day they’d met. His heart belonged to her. If soul mate’s truly existed, then they were meant to be.

  “Dance for me, Annie. Leave it open.”

  “As you wish, Sire. I’ll dance ‘till room service comes or you, whichever’s first.” She blew him a kiss and his cheeks flushed. A full-bodied hour-glass figure teased his eyes. Over the years she had taken very good care of her body. He took a deep sigh and started to respond to her nakedness.

  “Is that your wand or are you happy to see me?”

  “I left my wand at home.”

  “Oooooh, time to open your robe, mister. Show me!”

  The terry cloth rubbed against his cock, only serving to enhance the need to pop it out. Untying the cord around his waist, he let the gown fall open.

  “Oh my god, Sire, you must let your wench fall to her knees and give you head. It’s as perfect as perfect can be, my Lord.”

  Talking dirty always made him hard. The ache was almost unbearable as his skin went tight and the blood went to the swollen tissue.

  “More talk, wench. Talk dirty.”

  “Oh, Sire, let me suck it. Once it’s lovely and wet you can bend me over and pound me hard. If you are a good boy, Sire, I might let you fuck my tight little ass.”

  Carl gulped.

  Annie slid a finger up her slit.

  God, she was going to give him a heart murmur. He watched as she parted her labia, the pink flesh exposed, glistening in the light. Swallowing hard, he stood mesmerized as she walked closer, her index finger slipping inside her pussy.

  The light knock on the door spoilt proceedings and Annie said “Shit” before closing her robe. Carl closed his, too, but the huge erection betrayed him as he turned his back to the door, watching in the huge mirror.

  “Room service.”

  “Coming.”

  Annie shook her head and Carl shrugged. He watched her reflection open the door.

  A young man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, grinned and pushed the trolley inside. Annie closed it behind him.

  “Carl, what did you order? There’s a week’s worth of food here.”

  “Well, it is a special occasion, love.”

  “I know, but...” She motioned at him, her eyes rolling towards the bed. It was a slightly embarrassing moment as the young man tried not to react. Carl caught his gaze. Something felt a bit off.

  “May I prepare it on the table for you both?” the young man said.

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  With dexterity, the waiter lifted up the cloth and moved like a dream. His hands were a blur as he laid the table and set out the wine cooler and hot platters. In less than a minute he was finished.

  “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you. Here you are.” Carl’s ere
ction was now acceptable for viewing, and he stepped to the dresser. Reaching for his wallet, he took out a five-dollar bill. The waiter grinned at him and nodded, reaching out.

  “Why, thank you, sir, but five dollars? That’s an insult.”

  Carl caught a scent, and Annie looked at him. The whiff of burnt grass and slit-open frogs permeated his nostrils. Fear rose in his throat, hot tickles spread down his spine, and his erection grew again.

  “I’m sorry?” Annie asked.

  “Oh, don’t be.”

  Carl saw the waiter’s hand rise. As it did so he was flung back against the wall, some four feet off the floor. An invisible hand gripped him tightly around the throat. A swirling wind, dark and wispy, came from nowhere. Annie lifted off the floor. Carl wanted to call to her, but his voice was restricted. He could only watch as the waiter’s appearance changed. Gone were the crisp white shirt and bow tie, to be replaced by a thick, long coat, complete with hood.

  The voice rang out, arms outstretched as dark eyes peered at him.

  “Have I spoilt your evening, wiccan and warlock?”

  Annie, still raised, turned her head as Carl watched. He wanted to tell her to be quiet but she never backed down from a situation like this.

  “Who are you? We have power; we can stop you,” Annie said.

  “Then stop me.” Carl saw him twist his hand and his throat was released but not his body.

  “I know you,” Carl croaked through dry lips.

  “So you should. Your wife doesn’t. So you came for a dirty break, I take it. Come!”

  Carl knew true fear as his wife was moved by a power beyond his own, moved into the hands of the warlock of warlocks.

  Slick hands unfastened her robe, relieving it from her now naked body. Carl responded, his cock growing hard again─damn the human body. The bastard held her tight as tears fell down her cheeks.

  “Now, now, sweet witch. No tears, only juices. Let me see what an old woman feels like between her hobbit thighs.”

  Carl wanted to look away but again his head was fixed, his eyelids held open. The warlock ran his hands down Annie’s soft belly to her neatly trimmed minge. The warlock groaned, his eyes rolling back.

  “I love older women, Carl.”

  Fingers traced down each side of her folds, pulling them back. “So wet.” He inserted two into her pussy, flicking them in and out. The wet slaps filled the room, almost like a distant echo.

  Carl started to cry as Annie’s body betrayed her. She groaned and moaned as young male fingers probed deep inside her. She arched back into the warlock’s rock of a torso, her breasts firm as they pushed forward. Her nipples were like peaks and all Carl could do was hang there.

  “Come for me.”

  “Stop this. Stop, I command you!”

  “You command me, Carl? As I command your wife’s forthcoming orgasm and your downfall.”

  “Cormadine Osmaldis, I order you to stop.”

  Annie’s voice filled the room even over the loud sound of the increasing wind. Carl knew she was close to orgasm. He could see it in her eyes. Her eyes never lied. She was taken by this beast, her body not her own anymore. Carl ached. He hurt inside. His cock stood at attention, swollen and tight, dripping in response to his wife. She screamed an erotic scream. The warlock’s fingers worked their wicked way as Annie came. Her gaze met Carl’s and he could see the guilt and shame held within them.

  “Stop? As you wish. Here comes the end, your demise.”

  Annie came.

  Carl saw her disgust, wet fingers plucked from her and a spray shot towards him, covering his body. With it came a heat, an intense heat. Tears ran down his cheeks as Annie’s sweet body turned black, the source of burning. She burst into flame. His own body felt charred. He wanted to die, to join her in damnation.

  “Happy Valentine’s.”

  Osmaldis dropped the black corpse and walked toward him. Looking up, those eyes peered into his very soul.

  “Aw, I am sorry, dear Carl. Give me what I want and I will send you to her. I was hoping you’d both put up a fight, but to be honest you are both─sorry─were both pitiful. I’m sorely disappointed.”

  “I’ll give you nothing, you bastard. I made a vow.”

  “Good for you.”

  Carl’s legs snapped, his bones breaking. The pain was indescribable as he was released, dropping until his toes touched the carpet. Next he felt his arms contort, and he screamed out loud. Pain hit him hard as Osmaldis gripped his hair and those deep blue eyes locked to his own.

  “Tell me, where is she? Tell me and I’ll reunite you with your sexy wife. Or-I will burn you in hell and sweet Sorscha can lick your ashes off the floor.”

  “Never!”

  “Don’t give me the ‘I’m loyal to the bastard king’ speech, Carl. Where is his loyalty to you?” Carl watched as Osmaldis looked around. “Fergus McGovan, king of Malandria, your warlock, your daughter’s guardian rots and burns in his wife’s come. Will you not come to his rescue?”

  Carl stayed strong; he knew what he had to do.

  “I don’t see him, Carl. Maybe his daughter means nothing as you mean nothing. Join your wife in the afterlife. Tell me where the bitch is.”

  “NO!”

  “Marok!”

  Carl knew that name too. A huge man walked in the room. As soon as he joined them, the glamour dropped and the hideous orc leader showed his true self.

  “Master?”

  “Get this bastard’s scent and track it to his home.”

  “As you wish.”

  Carl went rigid as the orc leaned in, the ugly face close to his bare skin. Marok’s hot breath touched his face, sniffing in the only place Annie’s come hadn’t touched. The hairs on the orc’s nose grazed his flesh. Carl wanted to vomit. Sorscha was alone, with only William the-live-in help to protect her now. Tears fell like a stream as the orc pulled back.

  “Got it?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Find her.”

  The orc left.

  Carl braced himself.

  Osmaldis grinned.

  “Embrace the darkness and keep it warm, for you’ll have company soon enough.”

  Carl’s eyelids strained. He tried to close his eyes before the inevitable. Osmaldis grinned and turned. Carl felt an intense heat rise within him as his flesh turned to ash. The last thing he saw were his wife’s remains as he descended into darkness.

  Chapter Two

  Sorscha Walker leaned back in the oversized leather computer chair. The ostentatious piece of furniture looked silly in the office space. Then again, everything in the office space looked silly. It was a nerdy fangirl’s wet dream in this room. Sorscha sure had enough money, if not from her job at Sector Inc., but from her father, to indulge her silly fandom necessities. A large TARDIS sat on her desk with little cut-outs of David Tennant and Billie Piper peeking out. The walls were nearly solid in full-sized posters ranging from Star Trek movies to Doctor Who and Sherlock. She gave Cumberbatch a wink before she cradled the cup of hot chamomile tea in her hands and took a sip.

  Pulling her legs up, she rested her chin against her knees and watched the scrolling firewall protection flash by quickly on her MacBook. She was working off-site today. It was Valentine’s Day, and apparently that now was considered a national holiday. What it really was, was her boss at Sector Inc. was a hopeless romantic and seeing as Valentine’s fell on Friday this year, she’d given everyone a three-day weekend.

  Well, it gave Sorscha time to Netflix the shit out of half the shows she was a season behind on. She wanted to watch Arrow so bad it was killing her. Two of her co-workers in the tech division gushed about it and posted about their feels constantly on Twitter. She knew she would enjoy the show even if it did give off a silly vibe in the trailers.

  Leaning forward, she grabbed her iPhone. One hand held the tea as she rested it on the thick arm of the chair; her other scrolled through her Instagram. She caught a glimpse of her selfie from last night. She was mak
ing a silly face. She had on no make-up and was ready to close down for the night and go to bed. Her big blue eyes still sparkled without her usual band of eyeliner tracing the brilliant orbs. Her white skin looked like it needed to see sun very desperately, and her shoulder-length dark brown hair was knotted up in a messy bun atop her head.

  She was a Whovian.

  Which meant too many people followed her and her fan postings, so the likes had gone up to three-hundred and forty-five—with a few comments of ‘marry me.’

  If only someone else noticed her that way.

  She shook off the thought of her loyal family security guard, William.

  The dude wouldn’t even take her to prom when she had been dumped the day of by her at-the-time football boyfriend. He’d only been dating her because of how wealthy her parents were. When Tammy Grabber had started to sob at cheerleading practice about how her college boyfriend had dumped her, John, her boyfriend, had dumped her with a brief text message. She was left sad, depressed, and begging the head of their security to take her instead to make a point.

  The big grump was in a perpetual state of grumbling at her, telling her ‘no’ as much as he could and stalking behind her back when she tried to work at home. Tossing the phone back onto her huge glass desk, she lay back and let out a sigh. The house was silent. Her parents were away getting much needed R&R, and William and the rest of the staff were off until Monday. No grumbling bear while she tried to work and she could eat and do whatever she wanted.

  She wasn’t skinny, but she also wasn’t fat. However, her mother, God bless her soul, was always trying to get her down to a socialite acceptable weight.

  It wasn’t going to happen.

  Sorscha liked proper lattes too much—and cupcakes.

  Sorscha reached out for her Kindle, but before she could even start it up, her phone started to make the alert that told her someone currently was trying to break into the firewalls at Sector Inc. Tossing the tablet aside, she dropped her legs off the table and flipped open her second laptop. She hummed to life with coding and attacks to get the bastard out of her systems.

  Why now?

  This was the third security breach in a month. Sector Inc. had nothing of importance. It was a sports agency run by her father’s best friend. Who wanted to know about the next move Sean White was making that much? Wasn’t it obvious—the Winter Olympics?