Omega's Bears (Hell's Bears MC Book 1)

by J. L. Wilder

  Jack is already in the chamber when Ryan and I arrive, standing in the patch of sunlight and giving the place his usual analytical appraisal. Luka arrives a few moments later and is the one to break the silence. “What do you think?”

  Jack nods. “This is suitable. But you know what I’m going to say.”

  “Ryan and I have already decided we like it,” Luka tells him. “We don’t need to have a vote. It’s already unanimous.”

  It’s Ryan who speaks up. “Cami hasn’t voted.”

  I turn to him in surprise. He’s going out of his way to include me. He doesn’t need to do it—if the three men like this place, my vote can only be a formality. The majority has spoken. But Ryan wants to make sure my voice is heard, and that’s a first. I wonder what he’s thinking. Why is he being so kind to me? Has he noticed how uncomfortable I’ve been since the convenience store holdup yesterday? Maybe he’s thinking about our future, about how we can best transition from the animosity with which we began to the relationship we’ll need to form as mates. I don’t know what his motivation is, but my heart warms. I don’t think I’d deny him anything at the moment.

  “I like it,” I tell them. “It seems safe and warm. And we’ll have plenty of space here.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Jack says, as if the foundation of our group dynamic hasn’t just shifted. “Ryan, come with me and we’ll find a place to conceal the bikes. Luka, you stay here with Cami. You two can start unpacking the bags.”

  Luka nods and drops the bag he’s carrying to the floor. Ryan and Jack set off back down the tunnel to the outside world.

  Once the sound of their footsteps echoing on the stone has faded away completely, Luka turns to me. “You did well on that ride,” he says. “Riding with a gang can be hard.”

  “It’s not as if it was my first time,” I tell him. “My last clan were bikers. We rode around all the time just for fun.”

  “But did you ever do a three-day stretch?” Luka asks.

  I have to concede that we never did. And I understand what he’s getting at. My legs and back are sore from being astride the bike all the time, and I’ve had a mild headache since yesterday. But none of that compares to the shock and worry I’ve been feeling about the crime I saw committed. Could I have done anything to stop it? I can’t seem to stop playing it over in my mind, trying to understand why it was necessary, trying to reassure myself that I was only a bystander and not complicit.

  “I have something for you,” Luka says, reaching into his pocket.

  For a moment, I’m worried it will be a portion of the stolen money—I’m not sure I’ll be able to accept that gift—but instead, he pulls out a small, circular piece of leather. Carefully painted on it is the image of a bear’s paw print. The two center claws have been elongated and curved to resemble devil horns. It’s the same tattoo I saw on Ryan’s shoulder the night I arrived, the same tattoo I’ve seen on all three of them in the weeks since.

  I accept Luka’s gift. “What is this?”

  “The sign of the Hell’s Bears,” he says. “All clan members get this tattoo eventually, but first, you get your patch. Jack entrusted me with the responsibility of awarding it to you when I felt you’d earned it.”

  “And you think I have?”

  “Like I said,” he says, “that ride impressed me. The others might not say so—Jack’s far too stoic, and Ryan doesn’t like to admit he’s impressed by anyone—but they feel the same way. You didn’t complain or ask for rest stops. You kept up with us. You rode with us.” He reaches out and closes my hand around the patch. “You’re one of us, Cami.”

  It’s almost enough to push all thoughts of the robbery out of my mind completely. I’m one of them.

  That evening, after we’ve unpacked, after the men have hunted and we’ve eaten fresh meat for the first time in days, I sit by the fire in the middle of our new den and carefully sew the patch to the breast of my leather jacket. I still have my doubts about the Hell’s Bears. I still don’t feel completely comfortable or confident around them. And I still have my worries about the future. But looking at this badge, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride.

  I did it, Berto, I think, wishing I could really tell him, wishing he could hear. I found my new clan.

  Chapter Ten

  One of the best perks of our new den is that I finally have my own living space again. Although the chamber we share is huge and round, there are alcoves all around it. Some of them we use for storage, loading them up with meat packed in snow or firewood, but on our fifth day in the place, I’m exploring and find a little unused nook. It’s about six feet by six feet, the ceiling just high enough to stand up in, and without even asking the others, I immediately grab my backpack and move in. Finally, I can take my time getting dressed, without turning and contorting my body to ensure that no one sees me. Finally, I have a quiet place to go when I want to be alone with my thoughts.

  I still sleep out in the main cavern with the others, though. In part, this is because of the cold—my new “room” is several degrees colder than the main space, thanks to the fire, and the shared body heat helps us all get through the frigid nights. But as the days go by, I realize I’ve also just gotten used to having them around. I would miss them if I went off and tried to sleep on my own. I would miss the way Ryan flops around and drapes his arm over me in the middle of the night, pulling me backward into his body without waking up. I would miss Luka’s gentle snore and the deep sighs of Jack’s. Sleeping piled together feels so good and natural that I can’t help wondering why my old clan never did it. But then, the Hell’s Bears have always been a lot closer to their—our—bear side than Leo’s clan ever was.

  Jack waits until we’ve been in our new den for a full week before revisiting the idea of my fighting lessons. I don’t press the issue. I know he’s hesitant to let me leave the den until we’re more familiar with the area, and I don’t stand to gain anything by arguing with him. Finally, over a breakfast of berries and leftover protein bars, he looks over at me. “Cami, I’d like you to come with me today, so we can start your training.”

  My heart skips a beat. Automatically, I glance at Ryan. What will he think of this plan? I’m hoping he’ll be impressed with me, but he gives no sign. Maybe after I’ve learned some technique, I can show it to him and he’ll be so amazed that he’ll immediately start ripping my clothes off. As apprehensive as I’ve been about sex with Ryan, I also can’t seem to get it off my mind, and since it’s a biological imperative anyway, I’m ready to get down to it. Unfortunately for me, though, Ryan shows no sign of wanting to make a move. Every time I think he’s starting something—every time his hands come to rest on my shoulders or his hip presses up against mine in the night—I’m sure this is it. But he always moves away again. Quite honestly, it’s working me up into a frenzy and I’m not sure how much more I can take.

  I know he didn’t choose me. I know that bothers him. But it’s decided now, for better or worse, so what on Earth is holding him back?

  I can’t think about it too hard now. I need to keep my focus on Jack and what he has to teach me. I did ask for these lessons, after all. After breakfast, we make our way out of the den together and I follow him through the forest until we reach a clearing.

  Jack strips off his shirt despite the cold. I know that he tends to run warm, but if I didn’t know him as well as I do, I might suspect he was trying to show off his impeccable abs. Jack is probably the least vain person I’ve ever met, though—I doubt he ever thinks about his abs. He stretches his arms and turns to face me.

  “We’re going to stay in human form,” he says. “Absolutely no shifting, no matter what, understand? That could easily go bad, and someone could get injured.”

  I nod in agreement. God knows, I don’t want Jack to accidentally shift in anger and slash my face or something. Not that Jack has probably ever shifted in anger in his life. His is a cold, slow burning fuse.

  “Okay,” he says. “Start by making a fist.” />
  I do.

  “No good,” he says. “See how your thumb is sticking up? Now, imagine you were to punch someone with this.” Slowly, without any force, he guides my fist to his jaw. “See how your thumb strikes first? It would probably break on your opponent’s jawbone. At the very least, you’d be in a lot of pain and distracted from continuing the fight. To throw a good punch, you need to tuck your thumb down like this.” He bends it so it curves below my other knuckles, then simulates a punch to his own jaw again. “See? Like this, you hit me with your whole hand. You don’t get hurt, and the punch is a lot more effective.”

  “Okay,” I nod, squeezing my fist tight. It’s a little uncomfortable, as if my fingers weren’t meant to bend this way, but I understand what Jack is telling me. I’ll have to practice this fist in my spare time until it starts to feel more natural.

  “Now, hit me,” Jack instructs.

  “What?”

  He gestures to the flat expanse of his torso. “Hit me. It’s okay, you won’t hurt me. I do this with Ryan and Luka all the time, and I promise, they punch harder than you’re going to.” He smiles, letting me know this isn’t a slight.

  “Okay,” I agree hesitantly. Drawing back my fist, I let fly at his stomach.

  Jack swats my arm aside.

  “Hey!” I rub my arm where he hit it. It doesn’t really hurt, but I am taken aback. “What was that?”

  “Do you think a real enemy is just going to stand there and let you hit him?” Jack asks. “Come on, now, do it again.”

  I punch again. He parries again. A frustrated growl escapes me, and Jack gives me a warning look. I know what’s behind it—he’s making sure I remember not to shift, not to give in to my anger at being thwarted so easily. I draw a few breaths, center myself, and try again.

  This time, Jack catches my wrist in his hand, and before I even know what’s happening, he’s spun me around and pulled my arm behind my back. I double over slightly. He’s wrenching my arm, and it hurts—not terribly, but a little, and I try to pull out of his grip and reset my stance. I’m expecting him to let me go after a moment and tell me to try again.

  Instead, his grip tightens.

  His breath is hot on my ear.

  And though I haven’t felt it in weeks, I immediately recognize the jolt of electricity that shoots through my body, originating at my wrist where his fingers are digging in.

  He’s imprinted.

  I’m shocked and scared, and I don’t know what to think—I thought I was Ryan’s? But it doesn’t matter because he’s my alpha and he’s already tearing my clothes off and oh my God, this is what I’ve been waiting for, this is what I’ve been yearning for, and I would do anything right now. My mind is a stew of arousal. The snow is too cold on my bare skin and it absolutely does not matter because Jack is so, so hot, driving every other thought out of my mind.

  I feel wild. I need more of him. And I know he feels the same way because the minute my clothes are off, he’s inside me, with a noise that’s more animal than human. My arm is still pinned behind my back and his other hand weaves its way into my hair, pulling gently, then not so gently. He pulls me back onto him and grinds his hips in a slow circle that sets me moaning. It’s too much. It’s happening too fast. It’s—God, it’s not enough, it will never be enough.

  I’ve never felt like this before. It’s more than physical pleasure. I belong to Jack. I’m his property, his to mark up and use as he sees fit. I exist to please him. I would never have imagined such a thing could feel so intense, so wonderful. I feel as if we’re reading each other’s minds. Though I can’t see Jack’s face, I can hear the sounds he’s making, sounds I’ve only ever heard him make in bear form, and I know exactly what expressions I would see if I turned to him.

  His cock is swelling inside me, growing steadily thicker, and I gasp at the feel of it as he grabs my hips in his hands and begins to fuck me in earnest. I want to tell him I can take more, he can give me more and harder and faster and I want that, but I can’t find my voice except to moan with delighted pleasure. This is what the past several weeks have been building up to. This is what I’ve fallen asleep thinking about every night. I had no idea I needed it so badly. As preoccupied as I’ve been with the idea of sex, I never expected it would satisfy me so perfectly.

  It’s not until later, when we return to the den and I see Ryan and Luka packing the day’s kill in snow in our makeshift meat locker, that I begin to wonder about the ramifications of what I’ve done. I’m supposed to be bonded to Ryan. I know he imprinted on me. What impact is my encounter with Jack going to have on my relationship with Ryan—or for that matter, on Jack’s relationship with Ryan? Is this going to damage our clan?

  I didn’t even know it was possible for two people to imprint on the same omega. I’ve never heard of it happening before. Is there protocol for this? Will Jack’s claim supersede Ryan’s because of his alpha status, or is it significant that Ryan imprinted first? And what will happen when Ryan finds out that Jack and I had sex in the forest today?

  As concerned as I am about Ryan and the future of our relationship, though, there’s something else that’s on my mind. Do Jack and I have a future? I can’t look at him as we eat dinner—I’m afraid if we make eye contact, I’ll become too aroused to sit still. I’m afraid if our hands so much as touch, I’ll jump on him. Our encounter today was so hot. Jack was so forceful and dominant. Even as we’re all piling together to go to sleep for the night, a significant part of me is wishing he would rip off my clothes and bury himself in me right there in front of the others. I want to be claimed. I want his teeth in my shoulder, leaving marks. I want everyone to know who I belong to.

  God. I don’t even recognize myself.

  I don’t get a wink of sleep. I lie awake, fantasizing about Jack, wondering about Ryan, and wishing there was someone I could talk to about everything. By the time the sun comes up, I’m exhausted and only too ready to spend the day napping by the fire while the others go out to hunt. I’m not even disappointed when Jack says we’ll take a day off from self-defense training. I know he’s probably using the time away to think through what happened yesterday, and it occurs to me that he’s probably as confused as I am. But I know a few hours of rest will make everything simpler. It will all be less complicated once I’ve slept, I’m sure.

  Chapter Eleven

  The morning after Jack and I have sex is as stressful as the night. Once the men leave for the day, I curl up by the fire and manage a few hours of sleep, but every time I drift off, my sleep is disturbed by dreams. They all start the same—I’m back in the woods with Jack, naked, the two of us climbing all over each other, barely even human in the face of our mad desire. And then, the dream shifts. Ryan walks in on us, or Luka does, or I realize we’ve been in the den and they’ve been watching the whole time. And just as everyone’s eyes meet, and I see the terrible comprehension on the faces of my clanmates, just as the fight I know is imminent is about to break out, I shudder awake, every time.

  After several of these dreams, I give up on trying to get any sleep and crawl out of the cave, thinking I’ll spend the rest of my morning berry picking until the men come back. This has become a semi-regular part of my routine, now that we’re settled in and Jack is comfortable with me leaving the den during the day. It’s always nice to contribute something, to be able to show the others a full basket of fresh berries when they return from a hard day’s hunt, and I know they appreciate it. I spotted a promising looking blueberry bush the other day. Maybe I’ll try that.

  On my way out of the cave, I grab our water skin. The best fruit can be found down by the river, so I might as well refill the water while I’m there. And as an added benefit, maybe if I can wear myself out physically by hauling all these things around, I’ll have a little bit easier time falling asleep tonight.

  I pick my way through the underbrush, stepping lightly and carefully. I’m pleased to notice that my footfalls don’t make a sound. This isn’t a skill I had b
efore I came to the Hell’s Bears, this ability to move silently and quickly. Every day, I discover more and more ways I’m adapting, becoming like them. Sleeping in a cave doesn’t even feel strange anymore, it just feels like home. And although I’m not fully at ease with the fact that they robbed a convenience store, it’s becoming easier to put that idea out of my mind by reminding myself that I always knew the Hell’s Bears were lawless. At least no one was hurt.

  Does my ability to adjust to these things mean that I’ll also be able to adjust to whatever is going on sexually between me and the others? Will I someday look back at these days in my life and laugh at all the anxiety I’m currently feeling? Right now, it doesn’t seem possible. Jack and I haven’t spoken about what happened. Did I cheat on Ryan? Who do I belong to now? All I want is a clear answer, some kind of direction for my future, but I don’t know who to ask or how I can possibly bring it up.

  I reach the river and set down my fruit basket on the bank. The blueberries look ripe and delicious, and I also see a patch of wild mushrooms. I’m not sure whether or not they’re edible, but Jack will know. I pull up a few of them and put them in my basket and then spend the next several minutes hunting for the biggest and bluest berries. It’s satisfying to find them and fill up my basket, and occasionally, I pop one in my mouth and let the sweet flavor distract me from my worries. Coming out here was a good idea. If I return to the den with this offering and everyone is in a good mood, I’ll feel much easier in my mind about what happened between me and Jack yesterday. Maybe I’ll even work up the confidence to talk to him about it.

  Water skin in hand, I lower myself to the ground and make my way carefully over the mossy rocks around the river. I dip the skin in carefully and watch the bubbles rise from the neck as it fills. When the bubbles stop, I lift the skin and screw the lid back on tightly. The men will be pleased that I came out here to fill up the water, even if they aren’t excited about the berries. Fetching water isn’t my responsibility, so I’ll have saved someone some work this evening by taking care of it. I’m sure they’ll appreciate the help.