by Vivian Arend
The Bear’s Fated Mate
Borealis Bears: Book 2
Vivian Arend
Contents
The Bear’s Fated Mate
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
About the Author
The Bear’s Fated Mate
He’s going to pick someone perfectly wrong for him--because fate isn’t in charge of his world!
* * *
A stand alone paranormal story by New York Times bestselling author Vivian Arend.
* * *
As head of security for the family company, polar bear shifter Alex Borealis has intel warning something big is about to happen. His prime suspect? Tantalizing, infuriating Lara Lazuli, youngest daughter of Borealis Gems’ main competitor. But when mating fever hits, he decides she’s the perfect one to turn to. They’ve got chemistry hot enough to melt the polar ice caps, but he doesn’t trust her enough for a permanent connection to form.
* * *
Being with Alex is one step shy of torture for Lara. As a wolf shifter, she scented the truth the instant she met him months ago—he’s her mate. But she’s not about to trap anyone into being with her, especially not a man who thinks she’s up to no good. Add in her own suspicions of wrong-doing in her pack and Lara’s caught between heaven and hell.
* * *
But tangled sheets lead to real communication, and a bond of friendship forms that neither expected. When Lara asks for help, Alex finds himself living in the pack house, scaring off random Alpha wolves and fighting at her side.
* * *
Because the mating fever knows a thing or two about fate and forever.
* * *
Borealis Bears
The Bear’s Chosen Mate
The Bear’s Fated Mate
The Bear’s Forever Mate
If you’d like to know what new books I have coming, and stay up to date with releases, please sign up for my newsletter!
Personal Journal, Giles Borealis, Sr.
I’m not sending my grandsons another note, because I already warned their stubborn bear asses what the rules were, and I don’t repeat myself.
I do, however, find as I get older that it’s necessary to jot down a few notes to make sure I keep track of all the threads I’ve got in play. Growing old is a privilege, and a pain—I don’t like the alternative one bit, but that’s neither here nor there.
For now, I’m going to gloat for a moment, although at my age it’s called pride and we’ll leave it at that. Tonight was a delight. Never dreamed young James would be the first to get his act together and step up to the plate. Mated at twenty-six! That’s the same age I was when I met my Laureen, and it’s been fifty-eight years of mated bliss ever since.
James’s mate—Kaylee—is a perfect match to his enthusiasm with her quiet, resourceful ways. Knew those two belonged to each other the first time I saw them gravitate toward each other years ago. Friends-first make for the best lovers, or so Laureen has told me over and over again. Who am I to argue with my heart of hearts?
I also know there’s another type of partnership that blooms fast and grows strong. If you can’t start out friends, good solid enemies are an acceptable alternative.
Alex might disagree with me—
Who am I kidding? Of course, he’d disagree with me because he’s a Borealis bear. But I know best. He’s not the type to accept a woman who’s less than he is. She needs to have brains, brawn, and superior bullshitting abilities.
He needs a woman who’s a challenge, and the one I’ve got in mind fits the bill perfectly. They’re a perfect match in all ways, except there’s one thing she can do better than him—
Admit she needs help.
No Borealis male willingly asks for assistance. My wife says it’s because we’re stubborn fools, which is true, but I know a deeper reason. We’re not brave enough to let ourselves be vulnerable, not even when we should, and I’m never admitting that failing out loud.
Lara Lazuli is not really in life or limb danger—no way would I stand by and allow her to deal with that sort of nonsense without stepping in, matchmaking be hanged.
No—she’s simply about to find herself between a rock and a hard place. She’ll figure out the best solution, and my grandson won’t know what hit him.
Lara is one hell of a woman. Her wolf is a force of nature, and I bet before Alex knows it, we’ll be celebrating another mating in the family.
Although I won’t rush him. I’ve got time off with my own love planned this summer. Of course, Laureen and I enjoying ourselves might mean Alex filling in for me a few times. Might mean he’ll have to take my place at events that will put him in the perfect position to rub shoulders with the best thing he’s never looked for. Events like the appointment I just tricked him into attending.
From the way Alex sounded when I spoke with him a few minutes ago, he’s already slightly discombobulated. Just the way I want.
No rest for the wicked, my darling mate always says. I’m sure I have no idea what she’s talking about.
In the meantime, I have one final letter to send to get things ready for this coming winter and the fall of my final grandson. Then it’s up to fate and the mating fever to finish the job for Alex now, and Cooper later.
If I had my way, I’d be in charge of the entire thing, but even at my age I haven’t figured out how to mess with Mother Nature. Unfortunately. Think I’d do a damn good job if I were in charge—lock, stock, and barrel!
* * *
Giles Borealis, Sr.
1
July 2, Yellowknife, Northwest Territories
Lara Lazuli tilted her face toward the sun and shoved her lingering annoyance away. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and the motor of her bright red Maserati was purring like the proverbial kitten.
She was determined to appreciate the good moments when they appeared, and with the windows down and warm fresh wind whipping her long silvery-white hair around, this was a good moment.
Focusing on the beauty of the summer day meant it didn’t matter that she’d had to put up with all sorts of bullshit at the Orion pack house late last night. Or early morning, to be honest, since it had been nearly three a.m. when she’d finally made it home, only to be shouted at for acting irresponsibly. Didn’t matter that at breakfast this morning they had simply picked the theme up again, this time with added nonsense tossed in from her aunt about fraternizing with the enemy.
Her older sister and their aunt were so annoying at times. Crystal and Auntie Amethyst thought they were the cocks of the henhouse—
Deep breath. Deep breath.
Nope, not going there. Today was all about doing something for herself. Instead of protecting and promoting the family diamond business, the class she was about to teach was strictly because she enjoyed the topic, and enjoyed working with beginners.
And who knows? If things ended up going south with Midnight Inc. or the Orion pack, maybe she’d have to look into a new career.
Right now she was expending a lot of energy to fight off the crushing urge her inner wolf had to take her immediate family apart for being jerks.
Jerks, of course, spelled
C-L-O-S-E
L-I-P-P-E-D
A-S-S-H-O
-L-E-S.
We could take over, her wolf offered. Lead the pack.
Great idea. Which of their throats do you suggest I rip out first? Lara responded. Crystal is acting like a typical Alpha combined with an overprotective big sister. Not to mention Auntie Amethyst is sure to taste like smoke. You hate smoke.
Disgusted, her wolf snarled, We could still do it. Just fast, then eat a good steak.
Lara snorted in amusement. That other part of herself was always there, always her, and yet distinctly wolf while she was human. The wolf saw solutions in a far more black-and-white light and while there were times she appreciated the reminder to not get too tangled up in details, actual shredding of familial throats wasn’t going to happen simply because the matriarchs in her life were beyond annoying.
If they ever crossed the line to dishonesty or cruelty, Lara wouldn’t hesitate to fight back.
But that was the kicker—right now she wasn’t sure what mischief was going on in the secret back rooms of the Orion pack leadership. For some reason, the highest ranking powers-that-be, a.k.a. Sis Number One and Auntie Number Three, had not yet reopened the doors to include her in their inner circle.
Secretive jerks.
She slowed her car and eased into the parking lot of the high school.
There were many places in Yellowknife big enough to host an information session like the one she was about to present, but most locations had affiliation issues she wanted to avoid.
She could have held the session at the Orion pack’s pub, Sirius Trouble, but half her target market wouldn’t have come for fear of offending the local bear shifter population. She doubted Diamond Tavern, owned by the highest-ranking polar bears in town, would have allowed her to book space for fear of wolves rampaging in their hallowed halls.
The supposedly neutral convention center was a little too tangled up with sponsorship from both Midnight Inc. and Borealis Gems—“the enemy” as her auntie had put it—to work, either.
Jerk.
Her aunt, not the convention center.
The high school, however, was sacrosanct nonaligned territory. Nostalgically, Lara eased her car into the open space where she used to park when she’d attended six years earlier. It was the one time in her life she’d truly enjoyed school because her family had moved to Yellowknife the summer before her grade twelve year, and there’d been no lingering reputations from her older sisters to burn her. Yes, sisters—Lara was number five of the bunch.
She stared at the familiar building. Good memories arose of time with friends, although most of them had moved away.
The curse of a northern town. Those who stayed, stayed for good. The rest passed through like a winter blizzard, there for a moment before melting into memory and frostbite.
Enough reminiscing. She was making new friends. She was making a new start, returning after five years of college and tech school.
She grabbed her bag from the back and was ready to step forward when her wolf shot to high alert.
Eyes watching us.
Lara froze then took a deep inhale, checking for a scent. Tilting her head to the side, she allowed the wolf’s keen hearing do its job.
The bushes in front of her quivered slightly, and Lara laughed as she met the gaze of the fiercest hunter of the school hallways. “Mac?”
A loud meow greeted her as the oversized tabby magically slipped through the hedge without knocking a hair out of place. He rubbed his flank against her thigh-high red boots.
Lara laid her bag on the ground to free her hands as she knelt to stroke him. “I wondered if you were still ruling the roost. Good to see you, Sir Mac the Magnificent. I assume you’ve been keeping up on all your superior cat attack moves.”
He angled his head to allow her to scratch under his chin, a purr the volume of a Harley in high gear rumbling from his chest.
Lara scooped him into her lap and hugged him tight, awkward because of the sheer mass of the animal as she balanced on today’s moderately sensible three-inch heels.
The rumbling sound strengthened in volume beyond what was typically possible even for a big cat.
That’s when she realized someone else had entered the parking lot. Someone on a real Harley who was even now skidding to a stop beside her car, dust flying skyward.
She stood, Mac’s heavy weight in her arms forgotten, as the man on the bike dismounted and her every sense went into overdrive.
Black leather pants, black leather jacket. Adding those to the combination of black boots, leather gloves, and a mirrored helmet should have made him a mystery, but she knew.
She knew far too well.
Alex Borealis loosened his helmet, lifting the gear away then dragging a hand over his military-short dark hair. The sun shone off his square jaw and firm cheekbones, turning the tan of his skin the colour of polished oak.
His eyes fixed on hers, pupils so dark and wide that they blended with his deep brown irises and turned his gaze mesmerizingly dangerous.
Lips. Those gorgeous lips that were firm yet deliciously soft when pressed to hers before hunger had swept in and he’d attempted to consume her—
And that was where her mind was not allowed to go. No matter how her inner wolf wanted to lunge forward and complete what had passed between them the last time they met.
Which was…less than twelve hours ago?
Yeah. They had a “history.” Short, not sweet, and definitely complicated.
Lara lifted her chin boldly but didn’t say anything.
Alex hung his helmet on his handlebars then stripped off his gloves. He unzipped his jacket and it fell open to reveal a black T-shirt stretched over a leanly muscular and extremely lethal body.
Oh, how she wished for the right words to strike him with, but her wolf and her brain weren’t cooperating. Instead, the tip of her tongue vibrated with something along the lines of “Sweet mercy, your place or mine?”
Her wolf wanted to do it right there in the parking lot, thank you very much.
Alex stepped closer, still staring at her face, as his fingers drifted up to rub his wrists. Faint red lines circled the base of his thick forearms as a reminder that at two a.m. she’d left him handcuffed to a stairwell.
Oops? History again. In her defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
“You looking for something, Borealis?” The words rasped out as if she’d taken up her aunt’s three-pack-a-day habit.
“Maybe an apology.” He stopped a foot away from her, glancing momentarily at the cat. Then, wonder of wonders, a smile bloomed on the bear shifter’s stern face. “Is that…Mac?”
Lara slammed her lips together, mostly to stop from drooling. Alex Borealis smiling did something dangerous to her hormones.
Who was she kidding? The damn man could be cursing her name and he’d still do something to her, but that was an issue for a future time. Because, beyond all reason, Alex had reached forward to curl a hand over Mac’s head, and the traitorous creature allowed it.
More than allowed—he luxuriated in it, leaning his big cat head into the caress and loudly voicing his approval.
“Two-timing beast,” Lara muttered.
Alex grinned harder, lifting his gaze to hers. “We used to spend all lunch hour together, me and Mac.”
Which would have been at least a couple years before she’d attended the school. Lara supposed Mac’s approval was a point in Alex’s favour, but admit it? Hell no. “Yeah? Well, I didn’t have to bribe him with food to make friends.”
Alex rolled his eyes.
His hand slipped off Mac’s head and brushed the side of Lara’s breast.
Both of them went motionless. He didn’t retract his hand—just stood there, touching her. As if he were trapped in a magic force field and not sure how to escape.
Lara closed her eyes and swallowed hard, fighting with everything in her to not follow the damn cat’s example and lean into the polar bear shifter’s touch.
She knew why it was so addictive, the simple
caress of his fingers. The too-close exhalation of air from his lungs across her cheek lit extreme cravings. The urge to grab his massive shoulders and cling tightly as she kissed him senseless was enticing and as desperately needed as her next breath.
Alex Borealis was her mate.
Wolves always knew, which was why, since the moment she’d met the exasperating man, she’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep from jumping his unwilling bones.
Mating was for life. She didn’t want any man forced to accept her as a partner, especially not one who didn’t trust her and thought of her as nothing but an adversary. So, as sexy and desirable and oh-my-God-I-want-him-now as he was, Alex Borealis was off the menu until they could straighten things out.
Noooooooo, her wolf howled in renewed dismay, pain licking along her nerve endings at being denied her mate’s caress as Lara forced herself back all of half an inch.
Sorry. Hurts me too, baby, Lara soothed her. We need to wait.
Another wave of heat struck as Alex leaned in and his scent drilled through her like a spike.
“Lara.” Her name rumbled over her skin, teasing and sensual. It held a touch of awe, as if he wasn’t sure what was happening between them but was utterly aware this wasn’t a typical reaction between two people who claimed to not like each other.
She was tempted to do something questionable in the pursuit of self-defense when Sir Mac bunched into a tight knot then propelled himself from her arms directly at Alex’s head.
