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  SHATTERED FEARS

  A GLACIAL BLOOD SERIES NOVEL

  Anna Edwards

  Copyright © 2018 by Anna Edwards

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  www.AuthorAnnaEdwards.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes, adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

  Disclaimer: Please do not try any sexual practice without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from the use of the information contained in this book.

  Cover Design by www.CharityHendry.com

  Logo Design by Charity Hendry

  Editing by Tracy Roelle

  Formatting by Charity Hendry and Anna Edwards

  Proofreading by: Sheena Taylor

  Shattered Fears/ Anna Edwards -- 1st ed.

  ISBN 9781982914080

  “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”

  H P Lovecraft

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EPILOGUE

  GLACIAL BLOOD SERIES

  THE CONTROL SERIES

  PREVIEW OF SURRENDERED CONTROL

  DARK SOVEREIGNTY

  PREVIEW OF LEGACY OF SUCCESSION

  ABOUT ANNA EDWARDS

  CONNECT WITH ANNA EDWARDS

  MEET ANNA EDWARDS

  PROLOGUE

  Have you ever wondered if there’s something different to you out there? Aliens, shifters, vampires? What would it be like to meet one? Would they be kind, or would they live up to the tales of old that we read aloud to scare our children? Would you run screaming for the hills if you saw one, or would you hold your hand out and shake the creature’s hand before inviting it home for a cup of tea? Tolerance tells us to do the latter, but fear often overrules the common sense that we’re taught as children, and it can lead to chaos.

  It isn’t just in relation to a creature that our narrow-mindedness becomes evident. No, humans, through the ages, have always been unable to show acceptance of what’s different. It is reminiscent of the stories of rivalry and hatred between families of star-crossed lovers: Romeo and Juliet, Heathcliff and Catherine, Vronsky and Anna to name but a few. Couples torn apart because of misunderstandings and conflicting opinions. Differences in race, culture, finances, and background are all catalysts, which often lead to tragedy, death and mourning.

  Zain and Isobel are about to experience what can happen when their world falls apart, and all they want to do is shout from the top of the highest mountain about the love they share. Being different isn’t an issue. You can be diverged from the expected norm and still be typical. The problem is the chaos of uncertainty and the fear it brings. Humans are weak when it comes to worrying about themselves. It will always be our greatest downfall.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “There are people living in this world who aren’t what you perceive them to be. Underneath their human skins, they are animals. Wild beasts from stories of long ago and modern animals: wolves, dragons, lions, tigers, and bears. Savages seeking to destroy the human race as we know it. They walk amongst us. Some may even be here today, but we have no way of telling. They keep themselves hidden, waiting, ready to pounce and rip us to pieces. Are you one of these creatures? I dare you to show your true nature?”

  The crowd went quiet, and everyone looked at their neighbor, watching to see if they’d change. Isobel knew better though. The people here wouldn’t alter their appearance. None of them were shifters: the people her father, up on the stage, was talking about. He had tried to whip the crowd, of about a thousand people, into a frenzy again, but it wouldn’t work. It never did. Nobody had ever shifted into animal form at one of these meetings. Sometimes, she wished they would, just to avoid the inevitable laughter that was about to come, leaving her father in a sullen mood for the rest of the evening. The irony of the whole situation was she knew for a fact that what her father said was true. There were people on the Earth who could change their shape and transform into a wild animal. She’d seen it with her own eyes. The man that she’d loved, from the time she knew what love was, had changed. He’d shifted into a beautiful black bear. He’d been mighty in stature, but she hadn’t been scared of him. Mind you, he wasn’t aware that she’d seen. Zain Thornton, her childhood sweetheart, disappeared shortly afterward, and she had never seen him again. There hadn’t been a day since then that she didn’t miss him; he was her first and only love.

  “Come on, show yourselves.” Her father’s command broke into her memories. This is where she knew the laughter would start and, within minutes, it did. It was always the same. Her father was thought of as a joke, the insane senator who believed people could turn into wild animals. A part of her wanted to scream at them and tell them ‘it’s true’, but the other part was aware that now wasn’t the time to remonstrate with everyone about what she already knew.

  “What have you been smoking?” a heckler called out.

  “Don’t know, but if he’s seeing people change into lions, then I want some,” another chuckled.

  “Why don’t you just focus on lowering the taxes that we have to pay?” A third raised his fist in the air and shook it at her father. Isobel looked toward him, his shoulders slumped, defeat etched in the lines of worry, marring his once youthful face. She loved her father; he was a good man. He was just misguided on this point, and it was aging him. He stepped down from the stage and came over to her.

  “Let’s go.” His voice sounded downtrodden.

  “Daddy.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

  “I really thought one would show themselves, this time.”

  “I know. Maybe you’ve got it wrong, and they won’t hurt us. What you say about them could make them too scared to reveal themselves.” It was an argument she’d put forward many times, now. She wanted her father to believe that shifters wouldn’t hurt humans.

  “They’re wild animals in their hearts, Isobel. We can’t allow them to walk amongst us freely. They’re dangerous.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Don’t argue with me.” Her father cut her off and stomped past her toward the car that was waiting for them. “Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

  “Daddy.”

  “No, Isobel, no more. I won’t rest until these animals are caged.”

  They both climbed into the car, her father in the front, and she in the back. They had a driver for events like this who would take them home. The journey was made in silence. When they reach the manor house, assigned to them through her
father’s job, she went straight up to her bedroom and crawled into bed. It was her safe place: the one place her mind could find calm when it was in turmoil, as it was right now. Before long, she fell asleep.

  “Izzy stop squirming.” Zain pulled her tighter to his rigid body. His hands were over her eyes, and he was leading her somewhere. She wasn’t sure where.

  “I can’t help it. I don’t like being unsure of my footing.”

  “Trust me.”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  They stopped, and he removed his hands from her eyes.

  “Ta-da,” he announced. “I hope you like it.”

  The light flooded into her adjusting pupils, and a picnic in the middle of a field was revealed.

  “You did this.”

  He shrugged his massive six foot five frame. Despite being eighteen, he looked like a naughty little schoolboy.

  “I had a little bit of help.”

  “Your Mum?”

  He nodded.

  “I can make a sandwich. But, I’m afraid, if it involves an oven, I’m likely to either burn the food or myself.”

  She laughed and wrapped her hand around his.

  “I love it.”

  “Sit”—he did an elaborate bow— “and allow me to serve you, Mademoiselle.”

  “Merci.”

  They both laughed freely while she took a seat on the plaid blanket laid out on the grass and tucked her legs underneath her. Zain opened the picnic basket. He pulled out a bottle of water and two champagne glasses.

  “Sorry, it’s not the real stuff. Mum wouldn’t let me bring that.”

  “That’s ok, water is good enough for me.”

  “It’s good isn’t it?” Zain nodded at her while he poured. “This is the finest vintage from Casa Thornton. It’s been aged in this bottle since…” He looked at the side of the plastic container. “Well, since about ten a.m. this morning.”

  “You can be such a dork at times.”

  “It’s what I aim for.”

  “What have we got to eat?” Zain handed her a glass of water, and she took a sip.

  “Do you even need to ask me that?” His brows furrowed in the center, and she let out a long laugh.

  “Honey sandwiches.” She placed the glass down and clapped her hands together, excitedly. Honey was all that Zain ate, and it had become a favorite of hers as well.

  “Of course, only the finest delicacy for you, Mademoiselle.”

  Zain handed her one, and she took a big bite out of it.

  “Hmm,” she hummed. “Delicious.”

  Zain virtually inhaled his sandwich and then another two.

  “Piggy,” she teased.

  “What? I’m a growing boy.”

  “I think you stopped being a boy a long time ago.” She licked her lips, watching the man in front of her. They’d known each other since birth. Their mothers had met at one of those antenatal classes that parents sometimes attend when they are pregnant, and they had formed a lasting friendship. Her father wasn’t around much, in the early days. Her mother’s pregnancy hadn’t been planned, and he was just starting out on his journey to the senate. It took him away from home, a lot of the time. Zain’s father wasn’t around much either. He worked up in Glacial National Park as a ranger or something like that. Both the lonely mothers had bonded, and she and Zain had spent an inordinate amount of time together. It was written in the stars, some would say, for them to develop a friendship that would evolve into something more. They’d started dating on her sixteenth birthday. Zain had wanted them to wait until they were certain that a relationship was what they both wanted. She’d known from when she was about four, though, when Zain had come to her rescue after she’d fallen off her bike, and he’d kissed her ‘ouchie’ better. He was her knight in shining armor, and she had always loved him.

  “I don’t think you’re a little girl anymore either.” Zain shuffled closer to her and enveloped her in an embrace. He brought his lips down to hers, and they shared a kiss, which left her toes curling with pent-up frustration. Two years ago, they started a relationship, and she was still a virgin. She’d hinted to him on more than one occasion that she wanted to take their relationship further, but he’d said it wasn’t the right time. Why? Did he not find her attractive? If that were the case, why did his cock get hard around her? She’d felt it digging into her thigh on more than one occasion, during a heavy make out session.

  “Zain, I want to go further in our relationship. I know I’m ready.”

  She intended to tell him exactly what she needed, which was her boyfriend inside her, but he pulled back from her.

  “It’s too soon.”

  “It’s been two years.”

  “You’re not ready.”

  She was sick of this argument and wasn’t going to have it again.

  “Are you sure it’s me who isn’t ready, or is it you?”

  “Isobel, if I had my way, I’d have you flat on your back with your jeans and panties around your ankles, and my dick buried deep inside you. You wouldn’t know where I begin and you end. But no, you’re not ready. There are things you don’t know.”

  “Then, tell me.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.” She got to her feet and looked down at him. “You say you love me and want me; then have me. I’m standing here, offering you the greatest gift that a person can give to someone she loves. If you’re keeping things from me, then maybe you aren’t the man I thought you were, and I’m making a big mistake.” She was done with this argument. Enough was enough.

  “Izzy,” Zain’s voice sounded desperate as it pierced through the anger clouding her mind. But it was too late; she wasn’t going to listen to him, not at the moment anyway. She needed to calm down, and the only way to do that was to let her legs carry her away from her pleading boyfriend.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Quick, hand me the wipe?” Scott waved his hand like a madman at Zain.

  “What wipe?” The big bear looked around.

  “The one there, no, not there, there.” Scott was frantically waving now, but Zain still had no idea what wipes the lion was talking about. The bedroom his friend shared with Emma, his partner, looked like a bomb had hit it. The two of them had become parents to twins, six weeks ago, and the home in which they all lived together had descended into chaos. “Zain, hurry up.”

  The squirming little baby, Morocco, rolled around and lifted his chubby legs up. He didn’t have a diaper on because they were in the middle of changing it.

  “What the fuck is that?” Zain jumped out of the way when a flood of brown mess came flying out of Morocco’s bottom.

  “Well, it isn’t chocolate sauce,” Scott grumbled. They both gagged when they discovered the present from the lion cub was all over Scott’s jeans. “This is why you have to be quicker, man. If they aren’t puking, it’s weeing and/or this.”

  “Maybe, I should let someone else help you.” Zain stepped backward. “I’m not sure that I’m cut out for changing diapers.” With those words, he turned heel and left the room like a coward with his tail between his legs. Those babies really did require a lot of energy. Something which, as a bear with a penchant for lazing around in the sun, he didn’t have. He had to admire Scott, though. The lion had been the epitome of laziness in the past, but all that had changed, and now he was a doting father and partner to Emma. The tightness appeared in his chest, which he often felt when he thought about families, and he rubbed the ache. A family was something he’d never have. He knew who his mate was, but he’d never be able to have her. He’d never have the chance to speak to her, hold her close, or whisper words of affection into her ear. He’d never again be able to feel himself skin on skin with her, because her father wouldn’t accept him for what he was: a shifter. He could never ask her to leave her family. He knew how important they were; he missed his parents every day. When he was nineteen, his mother and father died in a car accident while they were on holiday in Canada. He�
�d been pulled from the wreckage of their SUV, barely alive, and had spent several weeks in a coma in the hospital. When awakened, he discovered that his parents’ death had been at the hands of a drunk driver. It had broken him for a while, but Isobel had helped him recover. It was during this time he discovered how important family was to Isobel and realized he needed to leave. A few short months later, he disappeared from her life, and even though he still saw her regularly, it was from the shadows and would remain that way forever.

  Zain sat with his legs hanging over the jetty, and his bare feet dangling into the waters of Lake McDonald. He’d come out here to think, after running away from Morocco’s smelly diapers. He was lonely, so very lonely. Though he had friends, he didn’t have companionship, and a bear needed that. The sun was shining overhead; it was a beautiful day in the park. He removed his coat because he was far too hot wearing it. They needed to keep up the appearance that they were regular humans, when they were in the populated areas of the park, but it often left him a sweaty mess. He dipped his fingers into the pot of honey between his thighs. It had become an obsession of his, since he left Isobel. He was sure the others thought he was crazy, but in his mind he’d exchanged one sweet nectar for another. He was in a funk and needed to get over it. There was only one way to do that. He looked around and couldn’t see anyone. He removed the rest of his clothes and neatly folded them into a pile on the jetty. He stood in the center of the wooden construction and allowed his head to fall back. A slight breeze whispered around his face, and through the bristles of his beard, allowing the memories of his past to dissipate. Without further hesitation, he dived into the cold waters, and shifted as he went. When he emerged from the peaceful lake, he held a fish in between his strong bear jaws; a small snack to sustain him.

  “You got any more of them?” The feminine voice in his head startled him at first, but when he turned around and saw Katia lying on the side of the lake, he groaned and spat the still flapping fish her way.