Jeremy Danvers was the alpha of the North American werewolves.
As such, he had many enemies, but he also commanded the respect of a far greater faction than the few who would wish to usurp his position. The power and responsibility that came with his status as leader of the pack meant that he ultimately led a very nomadic existence. His family, and by extension, the rest of the pack he ruled over, were his main focus and priority, their safety and continued survival his primary goal.
His life was not an uncomplicated one, his experiences having made him into the man he was. But as his close friends and family would attest to, he was fair, judicious and diplomatic, qualities that made him highly esteemed as a leader. Coupled with the former was also the latter: his ruthlessness, ferocity when tested and incredible strength of mind and body were the traits that made him feared by many. Not everyone always agreed with his methods and for his part, Jeremy welcomed their differing opinions. But ultimately, he always chose to exercise his authority in the way he believed would best ensure the sustained existence of his kind and keep their true natures hidden from those who would seek to harm or exploit them.
Since wolves aged a lot slower than humans did, no one would guess that he was sixty eight and in the prime of his life, his masculine power indisputable. He was an intelligent, shrewd man, but he was not what anyone would call soft. He was known to be loving towards his family, but spineless and weak, never. If there was one thing Jeremy prided himself on, it was his ability to exercise control over all things. He eschewed making new friends and generally avoided the company of strangers. Many in his home town of Bear Valley thought him a loner, a hermit, but he didn't mind. It kept people's attention well away from their activities and the less focused outsiders were on him and those closest to him, the less likely they were to discover their secrets.
His love of literature and learning was a thing that his adoptive son, Clay, had learnt from him at a young age. The other thing Jeremy loved, was art. He enjoyed the way it relaxed him, his individual projects often taking him months to complete. It allowed him, if only for a few hours at a time, to forget who he was and the important responsibilities that rested across his shoulders.
Stonehaven, a two-storied brick manor, had been his home for all of his life. Now that his father was no longer alive, it belonged solely to him and his immediate family. It was his sanctum, his fortress and the silent keeper of all the skeletons in his closet. It was the place he felt the most in control in, and over, and since he knew every nook and cranny of the house and surrounding property by heart, it was the one place he felt could provide the most effective shelter and protection to his pack.
Currently though, the house was empty and quiet, Clay and Elena having gone into town for supplies while Nick had gone into the City to see to some business venture, dragging a reluctant Logan along with him. Whilst Jeremy enjoyed the solitude, he sometimes missed the old days, when Clay and Nick had been children and the house had been filled with the gregarious shenanigans of two young boys learning to find the balance between their human and animal sides. Back then, Antonio, Nick's father had still been alive. Unfortunately, his wolf brother had been a casualty in the mutt uprising they'd overcome the year before. They all missed him, most especially Nick and Jeremy. The younger man missed his parent's love and guidance and the older missed his closest friend and confidante. Antonio's death had been a blow, but like all things, Jeremy had pushed past his grief and looked towards the pack's future and his role in securing it.
Staring into the leaping flames of the roaring fire in his study cum living room, he shook off his nostalgia. Grabbing his empty coffee cup off the mantle, he walked through the kitchen towards the back door, dropping the stone mug into the wash basin en-route. Unbuttoning his waistcoat, he stepped onto the porch.
He needed a run.
"Come on, please," Katherine Shaw coaxed her aging Mini as it sputtered to a grinding halt. "Just a few more miles."
Actually, that wasn't entirely true. She guessed that there were at least another forty or even fifty miles to go before she reached the town of Bear Valley but she was clearly out of gas. Unfortunately, she'd only realised her gas tank was leaking a few minutes earlier when her gauge had hovered precariously above empty, a thing that was near to impossible since she'd filled it before leaving the previous town.
Steering her fourteen year old Cooper onto the shoulder of the road, she sighed in resignation. She'd gotten the car for next to nothing when her neighbour had emigrated to the UK ten years ago. She knew she needed to replace the vehicle, but after completing her medical residency, she had a pile of student loans to repay. As a result, a new car was really not on her list of priorities. Besides, she loved the little yellow compact and despite all the problems it had been giving her lately, just the thought of getting rid of it made her feel as though she was parting with a portion of herself. She'd get it fixed. Again.
Grabbing her mobile, Kate's heart sank when she saw the flashing red light indicating her battery was too low to attempt a call to a tow truck service. Peering out of the windscreen at the ominous looking clouds overhead, she gathered her dark green coat closer around her and grabbed the matching print scarf lying on the seat to her right. Twirling it around her neck a few times, she lifted her long, pitch black ponytail and let it fall against the back of the scarf.
"Right, Shaw. It's now or never," she quipped, opening the car's door and stepping out into the November chill. She was parked on a long stretch of road that had dense, green forest lining each side. It seemed fairly deserted, with her having seen only a few cars pass by over the past hour. However, she was optimistic that there'd be more, especially considering that she was nearing the town where she'd be working as the new doctor at Bear Valley Medical Centre. Reaching back inside, she grabbed her purse and car keys, scanning the road for signs of life before starting to walk in the direction of civilisation. With any luck, before long she'd stumble across a house or someone who could help her get her car into town.
With the weather changing rapidly and storm clouds gathering thick and fast, the road looked eerie and desolate. All was quiet except for the steady thud of her rider boots as it struck the tarred surface of the road and the harsh sound of her breathing.
I really should get more exercise, she chided inwardly. Up ahead, she felt a surge of hope when she saw what looked like the entrance to a property. Hurrying her footsteps along, she pushed her oversized, black rimmed spectacles back up the bridge of her nose as she reached the front of the heavy, looming iron gates. Looking through the bars, she could see a large, red-brick house with creamy accents standing proud in the distance, the discordant weather making it look strangely unearthly.
Kate couldn't stop the chill that raced down her spine as she stared at it. The wind was picking up, whipping the back of her ponytail slightly in the breeze. Behind her, she heard a snap. Clutching her handbag tighter to her side, she turned, her heart lodged in her throat.
In front of her was the largest dog she'd ever seen. He was enormous. His fur was a dark grey, his eyes a matching slate, as they watched her intently, fangs bared. With an ominous growl, he started towards her. Panicked, she pushed as hard as she could against the gate, but it wouldn't budge. Then she looked around for a buzzer of some kind, her fear rising when she saw none. Moving steadily backward, her breathing ragged, she felt the cool iron behind her as she watched the approaching dog. It was strange, she was fond of animals, especially dogs, but this one seemed different. It was as though he was staring at her with malicious intent – which was crazy – and it was that unsettling feeling that was causing her escalating trepidation.
"Please," she murmured soothingly, trying to keep the fright from her voice. "I won't hurt you." She extended a palm slowly, as though trying to show that she was harmless. Kate recoiled immediately when he growled even louder at her conciliatory attempt, still advancing.
Panic lanced through her, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Looking around desperately, she thought about screaming. Would anyone hear her?
"Help!" she yelled as loudly as she could.
At the sound of her voice the dog paused momentarily and then advanced even faster. A second scream died in her throat as she realised he was going to attack her. Instinctively she threw her arms around her head, stifling a sob as she waited for the impact.
None came.
Slowly, she peered through her raised upper limbs. The dog was staring in the direction of the trees surrounding the house, as though he sensed something she couldn't see. Not wanting to waste any more time, she turned and attempted to scramble up the front of the gate. Turning back, she sagged against the iron in relief when she noted the dog running off in the opposite direction. She didn't know what had scared him off, but regardless of the reason, she was grateful.
Still halfway up the gate, she gasped and tightened her hold on the steel bars as the twin doors slowly swung open. Startled, she saw a man watching her intently from a few feet away, his forehead furrowed with what looked like a what-the-hell-is-happening-here kind of frown.
His voice, deep and rich, inquired, "Are you alright?" Even as he asked the question, his eyes were raking over her person, coolly assessing.
She flushed, aware of the ridiculous image she probably presented. She was about to clamber down when her foot, hardly secure to begin with, slipped from its tentative foothold atop a rung, causing her to fall backward. With a yelp, her arms flapped beside her as she tried to regain her balance. Unfortunately, it proved to be a losing battle. Within seconds she felt her body toppling towards the tar below. Then, unexpectedly, she felt herself land against a hard chest, strong arms wrapping securely around her before she hit the ground.
"Oh!"
A pair of light blue eyes, their expression unreadable, stared into hers. Her breath hitched and her heart picked up pace, beating frantically against her ribcage. With her arms trapped between them, she could feel the muscles of his torso as they bunched beneath her palms. Extricating a hand, she righted her spectacles which had fallen askew and widened her field of vision to scan his features.
Kate placed him somewhere in his early forties, although she couldn't recall ever seeing a man his age look quite so striking. His face was angular, his nose bent ever so slightly to the right towards the end, his forehead high. A neat beard surrounded the lower half of his face, the light brown colour the exact same shade as the thick brows framing his eyes and the full head of hair on his head.
All things considered, he was incredibly handsome.
Rolling away from her, he stood, extending a hand towards her as he helped her to her feet. Once she was back upright, he placed her away from him, but kept a steadying hand on her elbow. His lingering touch was oddly disturbing. Dressed in black jeans and a grey Henley, he wore a black waistcoat over his shirt. She hadn't seen one in ages, particularly since most people tended to not wear a formal item of clothing in such a casual manner. But he didn't look ridiculous at all. If anything, the way the fabric of the waistcoat stretched across his broad chest looked anything but silly. In fact, it was kind of sexy.
Mortified by the absurd thoughts flashing through her mind about a virtual stranger, she blushed, hoping he'd attribute her heightened colour to the cold.
"Are you alright?" he repeated.
Clearing her throat, she nodded. "I'm a little freaked out actually, but physically fine. That was one scary dog," she said, unable to stifle a shudder. "Where did it come from?"
"There are some strays around these parts, but he'll be caught." The way he said it made her think that he'd be doing the catching. He obviously meant animal control.
"I'm Kate Shaw," she said, extending her hand. "Sorry about the failed gymnastics," she joked self-consciously as she gestured towards the gate. Something about him unnerved her.
Slowly, he engulfed her hand in his. His grasp was firm and warm. "Jeremy Danvers," he replied.
She realised she was staring when he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh! Um, my car broke down a few minutes down the road." Kate pointed in the general direction she'd left her Mini in. "I ran out of gas," she explained.
He looked to where she was pointing, his eyes narrowing. "It's not safe to walk around on your own so far from town."
"Yeah well, the hike wasn't by choice, believe me." A few drops of rain hit her forehead. "I wanted to know if I could use your phone to call a tow service?"
He didn't reply immediately and she couldn't help thinking that he was reluctant, although she couldn't imagine why. After a moment he nodded briskly. "Of course," was his polite reply. "We should hurry. The rain's coming."
He held out a hand, inferring that she walk ahead of him up the winding drive leading to the impressive house. Giving him a tentative smile, Kate started off just as the heaven's opened and a deluge of water beat down upon them.
This was not how Jeremy had envisioned spending his morning.
First, there'd been the mutt he'd been able to smell the second he'd stepped onto the back porch. Since the uprising, there'd been a significant decrease in strays venturing their way. That fact one had been in close proximity had not been of immediate concern. What had been was the second scent, softer, sweeter and definitely feminine. The combination of the two had been enough to convince him that there was a potential disaster brewing – the scream for help had been actual confirmation.
Heading in the direction of the smell, he'd counted on the mutt realising that he was nearby as a means of deterring him from doing anything stupid. As he'd drawn closer, he'd noted that the scent was receding, a sign that the mongrel knew what was best for him. Since he hadn't detected any whiffs of blood in the air, he was fairly certain that the object of the averted attack was unharmed. Regardless, as soon as he'd assessed the situation, he'd have to track and kill the predator. Any mutts who came close to harming humans had probably done so before and given half a chance, would do so again.
When he'd reached the front of his property, the last thing he'd expected to see was a young, dark haired woman inelegantly draped across his front gate. In that moment, as his eyes absorbed the sight of her slender frame clinging to the metal bars, her arms stretched above her, her legs half dangling, half flailing for a secure foothold, he'd known that he'd let his guard down, showing her his utter perplexity at finding her thus. It annoyed him that he'd done so since he prided himself on his self-control, his ability to project a façade of outward composure regardless of the circumstances.
Then, without warning, he'd watched her slip and instinct had taken over. Within seconds he'd caught her against him and fallen to the ground, absorbing all of the impact. What he hadn't expected was the way she'd felt in his arms, her body moulded against him, her large green eyes hidden behind large, thick rimmed spectacles, staring down at him, a mixture of innocence and embarrassment.
He couldn't help but acknowledge that she was lovely. Her face was heart-shaped, her skin flawless and devoid of any cosmetics or artificial enhancers. Her cheeks, an appealing rosy hue, had most likely been stung by the cold. But it was her pink lips that caught his attention, lush and full, they were slightly parted as she stared down at him. She looked young, too young, he reminded himself harshly as he felt the first stirrings of attraction.
Disgusted with himself, he'd let her go and attempted to regain his equanimity. Clearly he'd gone without a woman's touch for far too long.
Now, trudging through the rain towards his front door, he realised that he needed to get her away from Stonehaven as quickly as possible. He didn't need or want any complications in his life and Kate Shaw definitely looked like the kind of trouble he could do well without.
A/N: I ADORE Jeremy and he's my favourite Bitten character by far - he's also the one I'm the most intrigued by. This story is based purely on the series since I haven't read the books. I have taken the liberty of using certain information in my story that only becomes apparent during S2. However, there are no witches in this fic.