BEARing it All (Wylde Brothers, 3)

by Jenika Snow

  After she was seated, all she could do was sit and wait. The front door was only a few feet from her, and she did glance at it several times, but with the pit bulls standing right beside her, she had no chance of escape.

  God, it had been so long since she thought about actually making a run for it. Yes, she thought about leaving Rook every second of the day, but it had been two years since she actually thought of trying it again. The fear of what Rook would do to her if she was caught kept her fear a living entity inside her and made her the weak female she never wanted to become. After several minutes, there was movement behind her. Marek and Tank started talking softly, gesturing to a group of scantily clad females just a few feet away.

  “Stay here.” And to her utter shock, they made their way over to those females. Although they were only a few feet from her, the fact that they’d given her any breathing room meant they were more focused on getting laid than following orders.

  For long seconds, all she could do was stare at them. They didn’t turn their backs to her and glanced her way several times to make sure she was obeying but would always move their attention back to the women. Then a few moments passed, and the two did turn their backs to her.

  If you want to live… this is how you do it.

  She’d never get another chance like this again. Her heart was in her throat, and she heard her pulse pounding in her ears. Trying to keep her emotions in check, because the last thing she needed was them smelling her fear and the need to escape, she looked at the door again. A little voice inside her told her this was all too easy, maybe even a trap. But she kicked that voice in the balls.

  If this was her only chance of escaping, she was going to try with her last breath, because there was no way she was going to go back to Rook alive.

  3

  Bram made his way back up the rickety stairs that led to the main part of Slater’s. The bar was an old, shitty combination of drunks, dirty shifters, and crack-addicted humans. It certainly wasn’t a place he frequented for the scenery, but anytime he wanted to get into a good old-fashioned fistfight or shifter brawl, Slater’s was the rundown place to go.

  He stepped up to the scarred bar and rested his battered forearms on the dirty wood. The scent of stale beer, sweat, blood, and of course cheap sex filled the small interior and had him crinkling his nose in distaste. It was the smell of desperation, and Slater’s was always filled with it.

  “Damn, Bram, looks like you nearly got your ass handed to you.” Whiskey, the roughened human who stood behind the bar, gave him a crooked smile. His teeth were a light shade of yellow from chain smoking and overlapped each other in an almost distracting way. He may be harsh on the eyes, what with his long, graying, and greasy hair and crow’s feet that were so deep it was like they were etched into his flesh, but he was one hell of a human.

  “You should see the other guy.”

  Whiskey chuckled and turned to pour Bram a shot of Crown. He slammed the chipped glass in front of Bram, tipped his chin forward, and went on to help a scantily clad female. Her tits were practically hanging out of her elastic top, but of course Whiskey zoned in on that immediately.

  Bram threw the liquor back and hissed as some of the alcohol hit his split lip and dripped onto a set of claw marks on his chest. Turning and surveying the packed bar, he noticed a group of four human females. The scent of their arousal was thick and obvious, even in the cloying stench of the bar. They giggled and whispered to each other as they looked around. No doubt, they were trying to decide who they were going to let take them home.

  The girls who played hard to get didn’t come to this establishment.

  The scent of honey invaded his nose and pulled his thoughts away instantly. It was like an electric shock to his core. His body wasn’t his own from that one scent alone.

  He instantly became hard, and his bear rose up as if it hadn’t just beaten the shit out of a lion shifter and was bone-tired.

  Inhaling again, he turned around until the scent was directly in front of him, surrounded him, consumed every single inch of his being. He didn’t miss the underlying aroma of a male panther mixed with the sweet scent, and that had a growl leaving him on instinct.

  He’d never in his life had this kind of reaction to a scent, let alone the aroma of a female.

  He scanned the bar until he spotted her, where the scent came from. And everything else faded in the distance. There she stood amongst trash and decay, like a cool, fresh breeze.

  Mine.

  That realization slammed into him so powerfully he stumbled back, gripping onto the bar behind him for support. He was unable to concentrate on anything other than the small doe shifter with the large gray eyes and innocent expression.

  She is ours! his bear roared out, trying to come forth again and go after what it really wanted, but for the first time in Bram’s life, he held the beast back.

  He felt feral, lost… needing only her.

  Her long honey-colored hair looked so soft, and he imagined the strands tangled in his hands. She was perfect, with hips that flared out, thighs that beckoned him, and breasts that would be more than a handful.

  Christ.

  His dick throbbed behind his fly, and his blood roared in his ears. He took a step closer, and although she was several feet away, he could smell her so potently. It washed away the dirty sex that filled Slater’s, was stronger than the scent of the fucking panther that lingered on her. And all Bram wanted to do was take her, claim her… mark her.

  His bear was a violent asshole on the best of days, and although it was pacing, it wasn’t the volatile energy that consumed it.

  She soothed the beast.

  This girl didn’t need to be in a filthy, violence-filled bar that would tear her apart without a care of her innocence.

  He took another step.

  She didn’t notice him right away, but her apprehension and fear were a thick cloak that had that calmness she created in him vanishing. His bear was on alert, ready to take down whatever or whoever had caused their female to feel this way. Shit, he was acting like a mated male, calling her his.

  She scanned the interior, and he could tell she wanted to run, but from what? Did someone hurt her? Was she trying to escape from them? Those thoughts had an angry need traveling inside him, one that wanted flesh between his teeth and the metallic flavor of blood on his tongue. He’d always been intense, knew his bear could take control if he wasn’t careful, and right now, he was more than willing to let his animal out to do some real fucking damage to whoever harmed her.

  She was his, and there was nothing that was going to take her away from him. Nothing.

  He moved closer until he was standing nearly over her. And when her sorrow-filled eyes landed on him, they widened. He could only imagine what she thought of him. The wounds on his face were nasty as fuck, and those were only the ones that could be seen. He probably looked like he had just killed a man, nearly had too, but he didn’t want her to look at him as though he would hurt her.

  I’ll never hurt her.

  His tongue swelled to taste her, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. He wanted to run his canines along her flesh just enough to open the skin and let his scent in, to mark her, to let everyone know whose mate she was.

  His dick throbbed with the thought of having his mark on her, his sign of ownership. He sounded like a domineering womanizer, but he was a shifter, one who was more bear than human, and he had just found his mate.

  That realization had a low grumble of pleasure leaving him. She was his.

  Mine.

  All he could think about was her, about keeping her safe, about taking her to his home and touching every part of her. He’d known if this moment ever came in his life it would be instantaneous, and right now, he was running on pure instinct. Those carnal desires were telling him to focus solely on her.

  His need to take her, mark her, and let every fucking male on the planet know she was his slammed into him again, and again, and agai
n.

  Make sure every male knows that if they fuck with her, I’ll rip their balls off and snap their necks.

  It was his animal wanting to make that thought a reality, but Bram agreed 100 percent. This little doe was theirs, and he wasn’t going to let her get away. He couldn’t.

  It was as easy as that, and when this was all said and done, she’d be giving herself to him completely, begging for more. He dared anyone to come forth and try to take her from him. At the very thought of that happening, he growled low in his throat, and he saw and heard her swallow in clear apprehension.

  Leaning down so they were eye-to-eye, he said without trying to hide the wild bear inside him, “You’re mine, little deer.”

  Her eyes widened further, and the scent of fresh fear filled his nose. She had no need to be frightened of him. He’d never hurt her. He’d protect her above all else.

  One thing was for certain: Bram was going to claim his mate, and he was going to do it so fucking hard it lasted forever.

  4

  Kenzie had been ready to make her escape, but then this alpha bear had come thundering over, claiming she was something to him, and that plan had gone down the drain. She was frozen with shock, a little bit of fear, but most of all… sudden arousal.

  He stood in her way, blocking her only escape. Her one chance was shot.

  Kenzie craned her neck back and stared into the intense blue eyes of the bear shifter in front of her. He was covered in blood and sweat, had so many wounds on him she couldn’t even count them all, but underneath that violence, he was beautiful.

  There was a nasty gash above his right eye, a fresh bruise forming along his left cheek, and his full bottom lip was split. He’d clearly been in a fight, and if he was walking around as if there wasn’t anything wrong with him, Kenzie didn’t even want to see what his opponent looked like.

  “What’s your name, little doe?”

  She didn’t like him calling her that, didn’t like this dominance that clung to him like a second skin, and having him this close had her getting a straight shot of pure adult male bear. It was intoxicating. Kenzie swallowed the second lump that had formed in her throat since this alpha male had come up to her. Her heart thundered, and she couldn’t quite understand her body’s reaction to this stranger.

  He couldn’t be any better than these trashy humans and shifters that filled the ratty bar. His appearance alone sent warning bells through her. He was tall and muscular, and a part of her wanted to lean closer, to breathe in deeply and take his essence into her body. It was a ludicrous feeling, and certainly not one she played on.

  Those thoughts immediately gave way to the fear of Rook.

  Fear and caution were always at the forefront of her mind. Kenzie knew how to tread lightly around Rook, knew the panther shifter thought of her as his possession.

  “Your name, sweetheart, what is it?” The bear inquired again, and Kenzie felt a cold sweat start to cover the length of her spine. He took a step forward. She glanced at Marek and Tank, but the cougar shifters were still occupied with a blonde and redhead.

  Any moment now, Rook could come out. She didn’t want the bear hurt because of her, and although there was no doubt he could handle himself, Rook was a psychopath. She stood, moving back, away, trying to escape.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had to work this hard to get a female’s name before.”

  Her back met the hard, cold wall, and she turned her attention back to him. He towered over her. Although he easily outweighed Rook in muscle mass and was several inches taller than the panther, Rook was a sadistic bastard. He believed in pulling fingernails off, breaking kneecaps, and torturing his victims until they complied with whatever he demanded of them.

  As she stared into the male’s bright blue eyes, took in his dark hair with a faux-hawk style, she felt something shift inside her. Deer were known to be on the skittish side naturally, and she’d never been any different. But for some inexplicable reason, she found herself opening her mouth and telling him exactly what he wanted to know.

  “Kenzie.” She licked her lips, and he lowered his eyes to watch the act. “My name is Kenzie Harlow.” She sounded out of breath, and her chest rose and fell with such force her breasts were almost touching his abdomen. She didn’t like how he made her feel so off-balanced.

  She felt this unexplainable pull toward him, one she wanted no part of.

  Before he could say anything in response, the scent of Rook invaded her nose. His aroma was a strong mixture of his expensive, suffocating cologne and his underlying vileness. It had always made her gag, but for some reason, Rook’s odor was pushed away by this bear’s naturally arousing smell.

  The bear’s gaze was still on her lips, but when he inhaled, a low, vicious rumble left him.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Rook barked out. “And what are you doing talking to my female?” Rook’s deep, clipped voice came through like a serrated knife to her belly.

  Kenzie tensed, and she noticed the bear clearly took note of that fact. His jaw hardened, and a muscle under his left cheek jumped violently. He kept his body right in front of hers, blocking Rook from her vision. Ever-so-slowly, he turned only his head, and she could imagine how he looked: fierce, commanding, and wouldn’t take shit from anyone, the sadistic panther shifter included.

  How strange for her to feel something so magnetic for a male who just walked up to her and claimed she was his.

  “Bos—” Tank’s voice was gruff from years of smoking.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Rook growled.

  “Want us to take him out back?” Marek asked with an excited tone in his voice.

  “You shut the fuck up too.”

  Although Rook’s right-hand men were all too ready to do some dirty work, she didn’t miss their apprehension. They should be wary, because Rook always expected to be obeyed, and those two had put this situation into motion.

  Everything became eerily silent. “You fucked up by not watching my property, and I’ll deal with you two later.” A beat of silence surrounded them after Rook spoke.

  The air around the bear shifted dangerously, and the hairs on her arms stood on end from the electricity that came off him. “Who the fuck am I?” The bear turned fully around but made sure to keep his body in front of her in a protective manner.

  “Come here, Kenzie. Now.”

  To anyone else, they wouldn’t have picked up on his intense anger, because Rook was a professional at keeping himself in check, but Kenzie knew better. She heard the threat laced with his words, one that was just for her.

  She didn’t want to see anyone hurt.

  The bear in front of her stayed calm, despite Rook’s presence, but there was no masking the scent of his rage.

  Kenzie tried to move from behind the bear, but he threw his arm out, successfully locking her in a cage of bone and muscle.

  “I asked who the fuck you are,” Rook said again in an even more threatening manner.

  “You want to know who I am?” the bear prompted calm, evenly, and with so much intent Kenzie felt it deep down. “I’m Bram Wylde, the male who’s going to kick your sorry fucking ass for thinking this female is your property, because I sure as fuck can guarantee she’s not yours.”

  And just like that, the tables had turned.

  5

  Kenzie’s heart was going to tear through her chest. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, felt the hard, frantic beat of her pulse in her throat, and knew things had just gone from horribly wrong to devastatingly worse.

  Again, she tried to move past this stranger, but it was like trying to run right through a brick wall. She wouldn’t see someone hurt because of her, not even if that someone looked like he could handle his own in a back-alley fight.

  “Please, just let me go to him.” I can’t bear it if anyone is hurt because of me. Just thinking about going back with Rook had bile rising in her throat, but knowing that if this stranger, this bear shifter who was selflessly putting himself in f
ront of danger for her, died because of her fear had nausea assaulting her.

  That was a far worse thought than being Rook’s captive.

  “No way in fucking hell am I letting you go anywhere near that asshole.” Bram’s voice was just as sharp as Rook’s had been, and Kenzie lifted her gaze up to his. She couldn’t see his eyes, but his profile showed steely determination and concentration.

  “Boy, I don’t think you know who you’re going up against.” Rook undid the first few buttons of his shirt at the collar and grinned. Marek and Tank took a step forward, but Rook held his hand out to stop them without breaking eye contact with her protector.

  Why was this stranger even willing to go head-to-head with a madman like the panther? He didn’t know her, so the only other logical explanation was he had to be just as crazy as Rook.

  “I think you should ask yourself that same question.”

  The deep vibrations of Bram’s voice went all the way through her once more. Kenzie couldn’t help but shiver from it. God, if Rook didn’t kill her over this, then he’d certainly make sure she hurt.

  “Bram,” she said his name for the first time. It felt good leaving her tongue and lips, but she didn’t think too hard on that right now. “Please, just step back.”

  Although she felt this change in him as soon as she said his name, he refused to look at her. Instead, he had this stare-down with Rook, and with each growing second, she felt the tension and hostility rise.

  “You’re blocking what’s mine, and I don’t ever ask twice for something, but I’m feeling generous. So, get the fuck out of the way, or I’ll have no choice but to take you out.” Rook cracked his knuckles, and a sadistic grin widened over his face.

  She knew that look. It was one indicating he was itching for a fight, and if he didn’t get that aggression out now, he would exact that violence on her.

  Bram refused to move, but none of that mattered, because in the next moment, the sound of a human female screaming pierced the room. The sound of bones cracking, of humans becoming animals, coursed through the air.