Primals (Reverse Harem 1)

“Alright. Alright.” Both men drop my arms. “She’s all yours.”

I lift an eyebrow. Seriously?

The behemoth of a man gestures to the door and I walk toward it, conscious of his protection, taking deep breaths and trying to keep my legs from shaking. After all, I might have to bolt as soon as I’m outside. Hopefully, this guy is one of those big but not fast types.

After pushing the door open, I prepare to make a mad dash through the snow. Not my best plan, but it’s what I’ve got right now.

“Wait. You were asking for a phone, weren’t you?”

I stop in my tracks, turning around. “Yes. Why?”

“I have one.”

“You do?” My fear turns to relief.

He nods.

“And you’ll let me use it?” I ask hopefully.

He gives another nod.

I’m not sure I should trust him, but I don’t have a lot of options right now. So I smile for what feels like the first time in ages. If it gets me a phone, I can play along. “What was your name again?”

“Theo.” He offers me his hand, which looks like it can fit two of mine.

I take it, shaking it as best as I can. “I’m Clarissa. Thanks for helping me.”

Chapter Four

~ Theo

“THERE SHE IS.” I GESTURE towards the small, black fishing boat sitting on the wharf alongside a tiny village. “My boat, Ursa.” I speak each word with satisfaction and pride. She is a good boat.

Clarissa stares at it with wide eyes, hands on her hips as she stands on the dock. The sandy wisps of hair that have escaped from her hat billow in the breeze. Her cheeks are pale, and she frowns a little, forehead crinkling as she looks.

“Well, that’s not what I expected. I thought it would be, you know, bigger. Not that I’m saying it’s small. It’s just...”

“It will do.” I turn my head back to the boat, somewhat nonplussed. This is not the reaction I’d expected. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“Just like me then.” She rubs her gloved hands together, breathing an icy mist over them. “Well, I like her already.”

I glance at her, but she seems serious. I nod, accepting the praise.

She’s tough, alright. Anyone else would be shaken after being cornered by drunken men, but she looks just fine. Cold maybe, but fine.

“Follow me.” I lead the way down to the boat, helping her to navigate the icier spots along the path.

“You don’t mean Ursula, do you?” she asks, her boots thudding on the wooden planks of the dock. “You know, like the sea witch?”

“Never heard of her.” I keep walking, my own footsteps thunderous crashes compared to hers. “It’s Ursa, like the constellation.”

“Oh, like the Latin word for bear, the one where the word ‘ursine’ and the bear genus, Ursus, are derived from.”

“Exactly.” I throw her a quizzical look over my shoulder. “You know your bears.”

She smiles proudly. “I know my animals.”

I lift an eyebrow. Well, that’s a first. In my experience women aren’t much interested in much besides themselves. Animals never figured into the equation any unless you were talking about dogs the size of your fist or worse, some overfed housecat. Anything beyond that was more likely to earn you a grimace in disgust at animals outside of house pets, or anyone who reminds them of one.