Claim the Bear (3 page)

After one eternal hike back to Reese’s truck, naked as the day he was born, Dillon’s mood was about as foul as it could get. The smell of the woman’s blood was thick as fog, which wasn’t helping him to control his bear either. He laid her on the tailgate while Ethan and Reese talked quietly in the meadow. Turning his back on them, he changed into the clothes he’d discarded earlier. He should’ve brought his own truck to the tower instead of riding with Ethan up here, then he could’ve just left. His mood darkened a little more.

He canted his head and studied the woman. She was bruised, probably from being hit by the jeep, and cut up pretty good, but she was a shifter and would heal. Her lips were small to match the rest of her delicate face, and her cheekbones high. He hadn’t a guess at the actual color of her eyes, but dark mascara was smudged under both like she’d been crying. Her fair skin was covered in freckles from head to toe. In fact, he’d never seen someone so spotted in all his life. He traced a pattern on her arm and pulled away as she sighed. Her hair was wavy and the color of sand, with hints of red when the sun hit it just right. Delicate collarbones, graceful neck, and flat stomach. Curves at her hips a man could grab, and her breasts—holy shit. Those were some grade A, more than a handful, soft as dough, and sexy as hell tits. They even looked perfectly symmetrical with petal pink nipples he wanted to suck. His fingers itched with the urge to palm one of them and see if they were really as full as they looked.

“Reese,” he called, frowning at the woman who had his traitorous cock twitching to life. “We need to go.”

Would she die of her injuries if they didn’t leave right this minute? No, but every instinct was screaming for him to get her to Muriel’s and get the hell out of clawing range. The woman was trouble, and his bear was taking too much notice of her finer qualities. Screw that she’d looked like an utter fraidy-cat when Ethan had attacked her. She was downright dangerous to Dillon.

Reese and Ethan approached and Dillon hopped into the bed of the truck with the woman’s limp body, then rested her head against his lap. Reese was borderline scary when she drove and the woman likely wouldn’t enjoy waking up to a trio of concussions.

“Hey, man,” Ethan said with the saddest eyes Dillon had ever seen. “I’m really sorry about…” He gestured to Dillon’s torn up shoulder.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m in the tail-end of challenges right now. What’s a few more scars?”

“It’s just Bear could sense her coming, and he’s…I’m protective of Reese and my clan. And of Abigail. It doesn’t sit well with Bear that she’s here. That woman is trouble.”

A chill rippled up Dillon’s spine at Ethan muttering the same thing he’d just been thinking. Reese kissed Ethan and held his hand until she had to shut the door to her truck. Their affection made him want to look away sometimes, but not now. Now, Dillon frowned and tried to piece them together. What had happened in those woods didn’t matter to them. They loved each other, no matter what. Ethan cracked a smile and Reese giggled and started the engine.

Swallowing hard, Dillon looked down at the woman lying in his lap. He’d never find a mate, because his bear had decided he was better off alone. He’d given every shifter in Hells Canyon and the Seven Devils clan careful consideration, but none of them were for him.

But here, in the shadow of the mountains, with his injuries on fire and a stranger laying against his thigh, he thought it would be nice to have what Reese and Ethan had. Or at least to have someone who accepted his bear and all of his shortcomings.

Tendrils of his protective instinct reached toward the woman, and Dillon ripped his gaze away from her parted lips. He wasn’t meant to be mated to a bear, and he sure as shit wasn’t meant for a lion. Especially not one who was shrouded in mystery and likely spying on the clans. Especially not one who was after Abigail. And especially, most particularly, not one who made him question everything he felt with a single word.

You.

He thought Reese would take them back down the mountain roads and to Muriel and Logan’s house, but instead, she pulled to a stop in front of the last cabin at the ranger station in Ethan’s clan. This was Muriel’s father’s house, before he passed away a couple months back, and was vacant now as far as Dillon could tell.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she hopped out and lowered the tailgate. “I thought you were taking her to Muriel’s.”

“Taking a lioness right to Abigail’s home? Hell no thank you. That could be just what she wants. Think about it. She shows up conveniently injured, playing in our sympathies so we take her to the clan medicine woman, who just happens to be the mother of the baby her pride is trying to kidnap. Nope. Can’t trust that lion. I’ll call Muriel and ask her to come out here, but this lady doesn’t get within five hundred yards of that baby. I’ll kill her before I let that happen, and if my instincts are correct, I expect you’d do the same thing.”

Reese had always been a clever girl. He’d do a lot of deplorable things to keep that baby safe.

He hefted the woman’s body from the back of the truck and followed Reese into the dark cabin. She busied herself with lighting lanterns while he laid the woman on the dining table, stained dark enough that a little blood wouldn’t show. He pulled a folded sheet set from the closet and covered her as best he could without touching injuries, then turned just in time to catch a first-aid kit Reese tossed his way.

She shook her cell phone in the air and let herself out the front door. Hooking his hands on his hips, Dillon stared at the woman and frowned.
Now what?

Reese stuck her head back in through the cracked doorway. “Muriel’s not coming. She’s your responsibility now.”

“Wait, what?”

Reese disappeared and he bolted for the door. “Reese, this isn’t funny!”

“And I’m not laughing, McCain. Patch her up and send her back to Portland.” She turned and walked backward, gifting him a mysterious smile. “If you can.”

Lifting his hands to his head he muttered, “What the f… What am I supposed to do with her now?”

Reese turned and jogged for a giant tent in the middle of camp that housed most of the maps. “She’s your problem now, not mine,” she called over her shoulder.

A soft sigh of pain wafted through the open door, and Dillon cast one more death glare at Reese’s receding back. It sounded like the little witch was whistling a happy tune. He should’ve let Ethan claw her. With a growl of frustration, he spun and slammed the door behind him.

New plan. He was going to personally put the lion back together, then escort her dangerously cute ass right out of clan territory before she could muck with his head anymore.

****

The burning was what woke Breshia from the dream. She’d been running in a field of sunflowers in a long dress, offering her neck to the sun, but it started to blister her skin, and she grew hotter and hotter until she wanted to cry out in agony.

She startled awake and was dismayed to find the burning didn’t fade with the dream.

Warm water trickled against her back and she gasped and flinched away.

A man crouched down near her and looked up at her with such somber blue eyes. “Who did this to you?”

His hair was lighter, though in the flickering lantern light, she couldn’t tell what color. Perhaps dirty blond? A long claw mark slashed across his shoulder and tiny rivers of crimson trickled down his arm under the stained sleeve of his T-shirt, though they looked to be half-dried. His face was shaven clean, and his mouth was bracketed by smile lines and the faint indentation of a dimple on his left cheek.

He also smelled like a bear.

Skittering off the table, she looked down and a strangled cry burst from her lips. She didn’t have a stitch of clothing on, and flashbacks of Thomas, and the jeep and running bombarded her. It was too hard to breathe! Snatching a worn sheet from the table, she pulled it in front of her and backed against the wall. Hissing at the pain the rough wooden wall caused her back, she crouched to match the bear’s defensive stance. “Wh-who are you?”

His eyebrows, only a shade darker than his hair, lifted as he laughed a humorless sound. He rubbed his jaw and canted his head. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine,
bear
. Who are you?”

His deep blue eyes narrowed. “You mean you don’t know? Because when I was saving your sorry hide, you seemed to know exactly who I was. You looked at me like I was your mark. I don’t have to answer any of your questions,
cat
. This is bear territory, and you’re trespassing. Now who the fuck did that to your back?”

Power caressed her skin with his words, and she cowered closer to the wall. The air grew heavy, and she struggled to draw breath. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed.

The stranger drew back like she’d slapped him. “What?”

“Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.”

He watched her for a long time with an unreadable, hard expression. “Is this part of your game?”

Shaking her head in confusion, she admitted, “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve met lions before, so your little act isn’t fooling anyone.”

Swallowing hard, she asked, “May I have some water?” Her throat was drier than a fire pit and had started to tickle the more the stranger’s bear pushed. She didn’t care what he thought of her acting afraid of him. If he couldn’t tell the effect he had on people, it wasn’t her job to explain it to him.

Watching her warily, he stood and filled a glass full of tap water, then approached slowly and handed it to her. He flinched away from her touch, and sadness washed through her. It seemed bears had the same reaction to her that lions did. She was unsavory to both. A little piece of her mourned this discovery. She hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms, but for Pete’s sake, she’d hoped they wouldn’t find her as repulsive as her own people did.

She gulped thirstily, and when the glass was empty, she padded over to the sink and set it inside, careful to clutch the sheet tightly around herself.

“Aah,” she yelped as she turned and ran into him.

The man was scary quiet when he wanted to be. She’d imagined bears would lumber around and make a loud racket when they moved, but this man was as quiet as a lion. Unsettling. Black tendrils of anxiety slithered through her as he took a step closer.

“How often do you have to shift?” he asked.

“That’s personal.”

“I’m not studying you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I need to know whether to put stitches in your back or not. If you have to change all the time, stitches are pointless. You’ll just scar is all.”

“Is it bad?” She hadn’t looked at it in a mirror yet, but it definitely felt rough.

The man rested his hands on his hips and sighed. “Yeah, it’s bad. You’ll bear those marks forever. Stitches or no?”

She offered a slight shake of her head and dropped her gaze to the toes of his work boots. They were covered in dust and what looked like dried grout. She only had to change once every few days, but she had the distinct feeling she’d be calling on her lion again for protection soon. Stitches wouldn’t hold.

“Let me clean them at least, and then you need to be on your way. I don’t know why you’re here, and frankly, I don’t care. You’re obviously up to something, but you don’t belong here, and whatever game you’re playing won’t work. You’ll need to leave before you get yourself killed. It won’t make much difference to me, but it doesn’t sit right with me for you to go to battle with one of our bears when you’re injured like this. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“I wouldn’t fight anyway,” she murmured, self-loathing lacing her tone. Her cat was about as scared as an animal could be.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he led her to a chair.

Settling in, she rearranged the sheet to better cover her. “Breshia, of the Portland pride.”

“Shira is your alpha?”

Breshia tried to keep the snarl from her lips. “She is.”

“I’m sorry,” he said lightly as humor danced across the blue color of his eyes.

Surprised, Breshia laughed. Her eyes went wide and she pulled her hand in front of her mouth. “That’s not funny. I shouldn’t laugh at my alpha’s expense.”

“Says who? I bust my alpha’s balls all the time. Keeps him on his toes.”

“Ethan Brenner?”

“No, Ethan’s not my alpha,” he muttered, turning her toward the light and pressing a damp cloth on her back. “Bron is my alpha.”

“Bron?” she cried, slinking away from his touch. “I thought I was in the Seven Devils clan, not Hells Canyon. He’s going to kill me!”

“Settle down. I told you I’d get you out of here. Bron doesn’t even know you’re here. And you
are
in the Seven Devils clan. I’m just here for the week helping with some repairs. Don’t worry, kitty, you snuck into the right clan,” he said, sarcasm tainting his tone.

“I think I need to talk to Ethan Brenner.”

“You already had your first meeting with Ethan. He was the bruin who tried to kill you by the cliffs.”

Panting, she sifted through painful memories of her time in the woods—of her time escaping Thomas. The vision of that monster grizzly coming for her conjured gooseflesh across her forearms. And he was supposedly the less terrifying bear alpha between him and Bron. What had Shay got her into?