by T. S. Joyce
“What the hell?” Mason muttered.
“What the hell?” Ryder repeated, sliding off his chair.
“Don’t say ‘hell,’” Mason and Beck both said at the same time.
Mason made it to the door first and muttered a curse at whatever he saw outside. Beck was mighty tempted to repeat said curse the second she saw the patrol car flashing its lights right in the middle of Boarland Mobile Park. The Boarlanders were gathered around a pair of uniformed police officers, and from the looks of it, Ally was giving them hell.
“But it’s against the law to register under crews now,” Ally gritted out, her face a mask of fury as she held a stack of papers folded in her hand. Her short, platinum blond hair was mussed from sleep, and in the morning light her tattoos down her arm were stark against her pale skin.
“Right, so they’ll be registered as lone shifters under no crew,” the taller police officer explained as Beck and Mason approached.
“What’s wrong, Momma?” Ryder asked, slipping his little hand into hers.
“I don’t know, baby.” He was small for his age and fine-boned like all bird shifters were, so she swung him up onto her hip and hugged him close.
“What’s going on?” Mason asked.
“I’m Officer Dunlap, and this is my partner, Officer Moore,” the shorter police officer said. He gestured to Beck. “We got a call from your ex-husband. He outed you as a non-registered shifter, along with your son and your mate. The registration process has begun based on the information he gave the Saratoga police department, but you’ll have to fill out the rest of the paperwork, and the three of you will be fined for disobeying shifter registration laws.”
Beck felt like she’d been slapped. Mason scanned the paperwork. “Mason Croy, Boar shifter,” he read aloud. Eyes blazing, he glared at the officer. “I’ll be the only registered boar shifter in the world. You’ll put a huge target on my back. I didn’t register for a reason.” His horror-filled gaze drifted to Beck and Ryder. “Please. I’ll pay the fines, do whatever you want me to do, but let me keep my animal off the record.”
“I’m sorry. We didn’t make the laws. We’re just supposed to enforce them.”
Ally huffed a furious breath. “I used to say that to justify what I was doing to innocent people. This is so messed up. How would you feel if you had to register your names in some screwed-up database? Your wife’s name, your children’s names. Huh?” Her voice pitched higher. “We’ve done what the government has asked—”
“They haven’t,” Dunlap said, pointing to Mason and Beck.
“Because they couldn’t!”
“Please,” Beck begged. “If I register, can you please give Mason and my son a pass? I’m asking you as a worried mother. As a worried mate. My ex is trying to get back at me for…I don’t know. It shouldn’t affect them, though.”
“You three remaining unregistered is against the law.” Dunlap’s eyes pooled with regret, but he still handed Mason a new stack of paperwork. “Your total fines are three thousand four-hundred-thirty dollars. You can pay them at the courthouse in Saratoga when you fill in the blanks on your paperwork. You have forty-eight hours.”
As the patrol car pulled a U-turn and drove out of Boarland Mobile Park, Mason scrubbed a hand down the three-day scruff on his jaw, then hugged Beck and Ryder up tight as he watched them disappear under the welcome sign.
The crew looked gutted. Harrison chucked a brick that had been sitting in the road as hard as he could into the trees and yelled a loud, resounding, “Shit!”
“I would not share pizza rolls with them,” Bash said as he rubbed Emerson’s belly gingerly. For the first time since Mason had come back to the Boarlanders, Bash wore a frown on his face instead of a smile.
“I need to Change,” Kirk muttered, his eyes blazing gold.
“Me, too,” Clinton said quietly as he followed the giant silverback shifter toward the tree line behind the trailers.
The others murmured their regret as they drifted off one by one, but Beck couldn’t move. Couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. The world would know she and Ryder were snowy owls now, some of the last of their kind. The world would know about Mason and assume he was the last of the boars since none of the others had registered. She’d felt safe for the first time in her life up in these mountains, and now Robbie had stripped that away from her.
Beck blinked hard and looked down at Ryder’s sweet, frightened face. “It’s okay,” she murmured. God, she wished she could believe what she’d said, but when she looked up into Mason’s somber eyes, something deep inside of her said that nothing was okay.
Before, Ryder had a right to marry who he wanted when he grew up. He could’ve chosen a mate and avoided the bullshit laws that were forced upon shifters, but now, he was just as affected as the rest. He was on the list. He was a target.
Mason pressed his lips to her forehead, but his attention was still on the woods where the cop car had disappeared. They weren’t there yet, but now she and Mason could never legally wed. They couldn’t even register to the same crew. Claiming a human mate was illegal, but what about the mark she’d left on him? Was that punishable by jail time like it was with humans?
Their only chance at being anything more than they were right now, in this moment, depended solely on humans voting to reinstate their rights.
Beck wasn’t just building public relations for the shifters of Damon’s mountains anymore.
Now she was fighting for her son, and her mate.
Chapter Twenty
The papers in Beck’s shaking hands made a pathetic shuffling noise. To escape the sound of her weakness, she inhaled deeply, held the air in her lungs for a three-count, then hugged the paperwork to her chest.
Beside her, Mason swung Ryder up on his shoulders, held his legs in place with one arm and pulled her against his side with the other. “I know you’re worried.”
“Mason, I just signed my kid’s rights away. I just signed mine away.” The morning sun peeked over the top of the courthouse. “Up until now, the shifter stuff worried me, but it didn’t affect me. I was good at hiding. I was good at keeping us protected, and now I feel completely naked.”
“You ain’t naked, Momma,” Ryder said from way up high on Mason’s shoulders. “You got lots of clothes on.”
Beck looked down at her power pants and matching charcoal-gray jacket. She smiled at Ryder. “It was just a metaphor. I meant vulnerable.”
Ryder scrunched up his nose. “Huh. I’m hungry.”
The worry didn’t leave Mason’s eyes, but he pulled her to a stop and squared up to her. “Beck, I swear I won’t let anything happen to you and Ryder. You’re mine to protect now. You aren’t alone.”
Her eyes burned with those damn traitorous tears that she’d been trying so hard to hide from Ryder. She shook her head for a long time and admitted low, “It would’ve been different if we could register to the Boarlanders. It would’ve taken the sting off this, but we’re listed as rogue.”
Mason pulled the paperwork from her hands and rifled through to page three as Ryder clung like a barnacle to his forehead. “I’m not a rogue, and neither are you. Neither is Ryder.” Mason jammed his finger at the box on his paperwork that said Mate. He’d written her name in bold, dark capital letters. Rebecca Anderson. “It sucks we had to register, but even if we can’t marry, or claim each other legally yet, we’re bound right here on this legal document.”
Stunned, Beck took the stack from him and stared at her name written proudly in the box. Fumbling, she rifled through her paperwork and held up page three. Mason looked up from where she’d printed his name neatly, and a slow smile transformed his face. “So, I was thinking. Today wasn’t our choice, and it was a forced, raw deal, sure. But it’s also kind of important for you and me and Ryder, so I planned something.”
“Planned what?” Ryder asked in that cute little voice of his.
Mason pulled him from his shoulders and settled Ryder on
his feet next to Beck. “I planned a surprise adventure, but we have to go back home to do it. And it means we can’t be fiddlefuckin’ around town too long because we need daylight.”
Ryder formed his mouth into a F shape, but Mason said, “Don’t say fiddlefuckin’. That’s an adult word.”
Ryder clacked his mouth closed. Then excitedly, he said, “I never been on a surprise adventure before.” He bounced beside Beck, clutching her power pants in his little fists.
Home. Mason had said they had to go home, and it was the first time he had said that to her. Beck bit her lip hard so she wouldn’t lose it in front of the boys.
Pulling his hand, she led Mason toward a fountain in a park next to the courthouse, and then she gave Ryder a few coins to make wishes with.
“Tell me what’s going on in your head,” Mason said as he sat on the stone ledge of the water feature. He pulled her between his knees and cocked his head, his eyes lightening just a shade. “Don’t think, just tell me. What was that look for?”
“I’ve been working so hard to get Ryder out of that little apartment in Douglas. I mean, my focus has been on building a better life, and this whole time, I thought a better life meant more money, a bigger place to live, a puppy, better clothes. Those were the thoughts that kept pushing me to go for bigger jobs while Robbie was falling farther behind on his child support payments. I was determined to give Ryder this cushy life and prove that I could make up for Robbie’s shortcomings.”
“I wish for a puppy!” Ryder yelled and threw a penny over his shoulder.
Mason tossed him a quick look and then lowered his voice. “And now you’re settling for an old trailer park.”
God, she would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so concerned. “Not settling, Mason. I see things differently now. In Damon’s mountains, Ryder will grow up with other kids like him. Dragons, ravens, falcons, and bears. He won’t have to feel alone like I did growing up. You know what Brooke asked me the last time I was visiting the Ashe Crew?”
“What?”
“She was wondering if you would be interested in helping Tagan coach a baseball league for the kids in the mountains. And not just shifter kids, but creating teams with the locals who are too far out to travel to Saratoga for baseball season. Humans and shifters, and Ryder could play ball without having to hide his strength or agility. I could imagine you coaching him, and him being a part of something. Mason—” Beck’s voice cracked, so she tried again. “I don’t care about the money, or living in an old trailer, or any of that. I care about the smile on Ryder’s face. Even when his lips aren’t smiling, his eyes are. So yeah. Maybe I’m settling for something different than I imagined, but only because it’s better than I could imagine.”
Mason dragged her against his chest and sipped at her lips. “You know I’ll coach his team, right?”
She huffed a laugh and rested her forehead against his. “Somehow, yeah, I knew that you would be interested.”
“Tagan’s going down. Ashe Crew versus Boarlander and Gray Back kids.”
“Gonna get a C-Team trophy,” she murmured through a giggle.
“C-Team,” he repeated softly.
“I thought Ryder wouldn’t ever have opportunities like that. And rumor has it Aviana is going to start teaching a school for the shifter kids right outside of Damon’s boundary next year, so the human kids in the area can attend, too. If we stay here, he’ll have a foot in both worlds, Mason. I know my job will end, likely after the vote, whether we’re given our rights back or not. But every time I think of leaving the trailer park and going back to my old life, I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I imagine seeing Robbie around town with his new family and having to explain to Ryder why he won’t acknowledge him. I imagine how much it’ll hurt both of us being away from you, and my mind revolts against the idea of not fighting for a life here. With you.”
Mason brushed his fingertip down her cheek. He was quiet for a long time, just drinking her in, but finally, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife. It was small and finely crafted with a polished wooden handle and a closed blade. On the handle the letters MC + RA were carved neatly. “My people don’t bite to claim,” he murmured low, looking around. “We use a ceremonial knife. Two slices to represent our tusks, right under your collarbone. It’s against my peoples’ laws to mark anyone other than another boar.” Mason flicked open the blade, and it shone in the sun. “It’s against human laws for me to mark you.”
“Mason,” she whispered, hope blooming in her chest as he unbuttoned her jacket.
“I had Beaston make me this knife just for this. For you. I don’t care what anyone else tells me I can and can’t do. You’re mine, and I’m yours.” He jerked his head at Ryder, who was squatted down, watching a line of ants on the stone walkway. “That boy is mine.” Mason pushed her jacket off her left shoulder and moved the thin strap of her top to the side. “I didn’t plan on doing it like this, but I haven’t seen Esmerelda in a week. You wrote my name on that paperwork, you’re telling me you’re staying here, and it feels right to do this now. This is our moment, Beck. I’m taking this day back for us. Fuck anyone telling us we can’t be bound.” Mason blinked slow and raised his blazing blue eyes from her collar bone to her face. “Do you want my mark, Beck? Do you want all of me?”
Beck lifted her chin as her chest heaved. She blew out a steadying breath and nodded. “I’ve wanted all of you from the moment I saw you.”
Mason looked around again, glanced at Ryder, then quick as a snakebite, he cut two long, deep marks beneath her collar bone. The air smelled of pennies, and warmth trickled down her chest from the burning cuts, but she couldn’t see anything through her tears. Dropping her head with a sob, she melted into his arms and dampened his shirt with her happiness.
Gently, Mason cupped the back of her head and rocked them from side-to-side. “Someday, I’m going to put my last name on you, and someday I’ll fill out paperwork that binds me to Ryder as well. I swear I will. Everything will be okay, Beck. I promise. We aren’t there yet, but we will be. But for now, this is what I can offer you. An old trailer park, some crazy-ass friends, and all of me.”
“Mason?” Ryder asked softly, his eyes big and yellow in the sunlight where he stood right beside them. “Is Mommy okay?”
Mason swallowed hard and reached out for Ryder. “Yeah, boy. We’re all okay.” He drew him in beside Beck, and she wrapped her arms around her boys and quieted her weeping. She’d thought today would be the worst day of her life, but she’d been wrong. Mason had dug deep and grabbed ahold of the bright side, then offered it to her on his open palm.
She was claimed.
Claimed.
No one had ever picked her, but Mason had just said fuck everyone’s rules and marked her for himself despite the tornado swirling all around them.
He’s chosen her, chosen Ryder, chosen to fight for them.
She reveled in the sting of the marks on her chest because the pain meant they were deep and would scar. And damn, she wanted them to scar noticeably. She would wear tank tops and show everyone that Mason, the protective, sweet, quiet, strong boar shifter had picked her.
Today was supposed to be the worst, but instead, the man she loved had just turned it into a day that would rival all other good days.
Chapter Twenty-One
“But what if I cain’t swim?” Ryder asked as Mason slathered his wiry little arms in sunscreen.
“I got you a life jacket, and you’ll be in a tube with me and your mom. We won’t let you sink.”
“I like your swim trunks,” Bash said to Ryder as he walked by with Big Blue, the cooler Mason had filled with beer and juice boxes. “And your yellow eyes!”
Mason frowned at Ryder and said, “Little buddy, your eyes are pretty yellow. Are you just excited, or do you want to Change before we go?”
“I’m okay, Mason. I’m tough.”
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Mason had bought the little blue shark swim t
runks for Ryder because they were the same color as his navy ones. Yeah, he wanted to match the kid. The guys would rag him mercilessly if he told them how soft his heart had gone, so he would keep that little tidbit for pillow-talk tonight with Beck. She was always really mushy after they had sex. Maybe she was still a little broken from how Robbie had treated her body, or maybe she just had a tender heart. Either way, Mason loved every freaking thing about her.
Ryder arched his gaze to Clinton as he walked by. And to Mason’s utter disbelief, Clinton ruffled Ryder’s hair gently until the little boy giggled and play punched at his leg. Clinton ducked and wove, fists up in the air and an easy grin on his face. What the crap was going on? Hell froze over or something. Clinton didn’t do easy, normal moments.
The shadow boxing bear shifter scowled at Mason and asked, “What are you lookin’ at?” Then he sauntered off without another look back and yep, there was Crazy Clinton again.
“Hey, did you park your truck at the end of the line?” Mason called.
Clinton flipped him off over his shoulder, which he supposed was a yes. Today, they were floating the river, something Clinton had been begging to do for a month. Well, actually he’d wanted to get sloppy drunk and float the river, but one out of two wasn’t bad since they were going to cut him off at beer five. When Ryder had told Mason that his dad was supposed to take him to swim lessons this summer, but had bailed for work instead, he found himself determined to make up for that asshole’s shortcomings. He would teach Ryder to swim before the weather turned, but for today, he was going to have some fun with the crew so that Ryder didn’t look back on the day Beck was forced to register him and have a bad taste in his mouth. Mason didn’t want him to suffer when he looked back on today.
Kirk walked by, his arm slung over Ally’s slim shoulders. She wore a green bikini that didn’t hide much of the tattoos that covered her back and arm. Good for her. She used to hide her ink because she didn’t want to share her story, but over the past couple of months, her modesty and insecurities had slipped away. Probably hanging with a crew of party-lovin’, constantly-Changing, semi-nudist shifters helped.
