Bearly Hanging On: Soulmate Shifters in Mystery, Alaska Book 3

by Krystal Shannan

  The large Reylean shifter swung his massive body around and bared his fangs, challenging Col.

  His dragon chuffed with amusement and a slight bit of respect. Col shifted to his human form and walked without fear toward the bear.

  “We’re going to get Tara back,” Col said. He stopped a few feet from Owen and crossed his arms over his chest. The wind swirled the snow around them, but visibility was still possible at this range. The others came closer. The two lions shook snow from their manes and Tor trotted off into the woods—likely to make a perimeter run. The female bear stood next to the lions. “My mate argued for you to have a chance to say goodbye after this all is finished with the wolves. I have granted her wish.”

  Owen’s animal stared at him a few seconds longer and then shifted.

  Owen couldn’t form words. He just stared at the dragon shifter. The others were there too. He’d seen the tiger for a moment before the orange and black stripes disappeared into the forest. Two male lions stood just behind Col. His sister stood just behind Col.

  “Thank you,” Owen said, his voice breaking with emotion. He didn’t care how long he had, only that he had more time. Only that the dragon wasn’t going to kill him right here and now. All that matter was getting Tara back safe. Every moment she was out in this weather was a moment longer she didn’t have. She couldn’t survive in this. How much shelter could the wolves really be providing her. Had they already killed her? Was this a mission just to get her body back?

  Col nodded. His eyes flashed with the spark of his inner fire. “The wolves are about two miles up the side of the mountain. We need to move quickly. When we find Tara, get her to me immediately.”

  Owen chuffed and a growl started low in his throat.

  “My core temperature is the only thing that’s going to warm her fast enough. Even as animals, this weather is a strain on all of you.” No anger flared in the dragon’s voice, just matter-of-fact truth.

  Owen rubbed his arms and nodded. He hated it, but the man was right. This cold was biting. He didn’t have the right gear on in human form. Tara didn’t either. Even in his bear form the cold had been rough.

  The tiger shifter appeared in the clearing again and walked toward the two of them, shifting to human as he went. Owen had seen the redheaded male once or twice before. The man walked to Col’s side and stopped.

  The tiger shifter male spoke softly. “No one is watching us, but this storm…”

  Col nodded solemnly. “I know. I can smell it.”

  “Smell what?” Owen asked.

  The pressure is continuing to change. This storm is going to get worse very soon.” Col waved his arm to the animals behind him. “Stick close to each other. Visibility will be dropping.” The others nodded their heads.

  Col led the way, shoving through the trees like they were blades of grass. Owen fell into step next to his sister’s bear. “Thank you,” he said, before quickly shifting back to his animal form. Ava’s bear chuffed a response and bumped his shoulder. Together they leaned into the wind and continued forward.

  Other than having to avoid the occasional swing of Col’s tail, it was noticeably easier to walk behind him like a train, each body cutting out more of the punishing wind for the ones behind.

  Two miles wasn’t that far, but in worsening weather and through now at least a half foot of snow, it was grueling. Owen shook off the powder every so often. His sister leaned against him as they walked. His nose felt like ice. His paws burned. But all those things were negated by the knowledge that his mate was out here. In the same thing without fur. That knowledge drew the tip of a blade across his heart. The pain of loss was so imminent it stood ready and waiting to take him down. If Tara was already dead, Col wouldn’t have to carry out the law…Owen would just lay down and die next to his mate when they found her.

  Snow swirled in the air and Tara’s teeth chattered. The man holding her tossed her to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The icy snow burned her palms. The chill in the air cut through the clothes she had on like they were rags. This storm was going to be bad and she was going to be dead from exposure before anyone ever had the chance to look for her.

  “You’re mine now,” the wolf man named Raish knelt down in front of her. He traced her cheek with a finger and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear—like he cared about her. But he didn’t. His hard, golden eyes didn’t lie.

  “Never,” she bit out between the shivering that was overtaking her body. “I belong to Owen.”

  “He can’t have you. He’s aonkan. It’s forbidden. And he’s dead.”

  Air stopped.

  Thought stopped.

  She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think.

  Owen was dead? How? When?

  Pain gripped her chest and crushed it like she’d fallen from a cliff and smashed into bits on the rocks below.

  She’d lost him. It wasn’t fair.

  She’d just found him. She needed him. Wanted him.

  Loved him. God, she loved him more than she could describe. He was a part of her like no other man would ever be.

  Raish grabbed her arm, pulled her up from the ground and mashed his mouth over hers.

  Tara whimpered, some control of her body returning to her, but getting loose from the Reylean shifter was a lesson in futility. She pulled against his grip. Nothing. He didn’t give an inch and his fingers felt like razor blades digging into her flesh.

  He might not have been as big as Owen, but he was just as strong. He moved a hand to her shoulder—the one Owen had marked. His clawed fingers curled around the neck of her shirt and pulled it back, baring the freshly healed wound from Owen’s fangs.

  Raish stiffened.

  Tara felt it in the nanosecond when he saw the mark. The interval between when he inhaled and exhaled. In that moment his revenge soured into a hatred much worse than it had been only a second before.

  He reared back like she’d stabbed him. His fangs grew, extending past his lips, making him look like some kind of horror flick monster. Gold eyes. Wicked joker-style grin. Tara’s stomach crawled up into her throat and she screamed.

  Then he bit. Hard.

  Right over the Owen’s mark.

  The pain from his fangs spread like a wildfire in a dead dry forest. She tried to scream again, but her voice abandoned her, choking up in her throat like an engine that wouldn’t turn over.

  He threw her to the ground. The impact knocked what little air she had left out of her lungs.

  She saw the booted foot coming at her stomach before it hit. And when it did the blackness came.

  * * *

  Tara crawled stiffly through the darkness. Pitch black nothing that smelled like wet dog. The ground beneath her was hard as a rock, cold as ice, but it was dirt. She could feel bits of it embedding beneath her fingernails as she pulled herself along. So cold. She could barely feel her fingers at all. She didn’t have a coat on. Her face felt like ice. Her fingers were numb. Her legs weren’t far behind.

  They’d dragged her down below the snow. A cave?

  She remembered how angry Raish had been when he’d seen Owen’s mark. It hurt. Everything hurt.

  Her hand went to her shoulder.

  Raish had bitten right through her shirt, torn the skin of her neck and shoulder. Right across Owen’s mark. He’d ruined it. Dried blood caked around the new wound. It ached and burned like someone had shoved her against a red-hot woodstove. It was the only part of her body that wasn’t cold…and dying.

  Raish would’ve done worse if Owen’s mark hadn’t been there. Instead of just biting and kicked and being pissed at her, the pscyho would’ve raped her and kept her captive permanently. He’d wanted to. She’d seen it in the wicked glint of his cold dead golden eyes. But something about that mark changed his plans. Something she didn’t understand. Like a part of him decided just killing her was the only choice now.

  So they’d buried her in this pit. This cave. Left her die. How would anyone ever find her? No one wou
ld. She kicked again, trying to creep ahead with legs that wouldn’t cooperate and arms that were too heavy to move. Her body would be missing forever. Her parents would never know what happened to her. Her friends.

  Raish had already killed Owen and no one would be able to find her out here, buried on the side of the mountain.

  She would just disappear.

  It wasn’t fair.

  “Help,” she called out, but her voice was barely a whisper. Her lungs burned from the cold air. Pain seared through her lungs from the gasping breaths she was taking trying to force her body to move across the floor of the tunnel.

  “Help.”

  Sunset was quickly approaching. The swirling white was shifting to swirling grey. The shadows grew longer and the snow piled higher the further up into the range they went.

  Col shifted to human form and raised a hand to halt the tribe. Owen paused with the others, shifting to his human form as well. The rest of the tribe followed suit and were soon standing in the swirling snow. At least his sister had a heavier coat on, but the two lions and tiger were dressed like him. Flannel, thermal vest, and some winter pants. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t enough. No coats. No hats.

  Col was dressed similarly, but with his fire core heating him he wasn’t even feeling the chill.

  “They are just over this rise,” Col said, pointing through the grey muck of snow and shadowy trees. “I can’t shift without risking the human female. My form is too large, I could injure her without realizing it in the confined space of their camp. The rest of you should shift back and forth as necessary. If you find her before me, get her to me.”

  Everyone’s gaze turned on Owen. Waiting.

  No matter how much his bear snarled and snapped on the inside, Col was right about one thing. The dragon shifters body heat was the fastest and safest way to warm Tara. “Get her to Col,” Owen said, his voice low and gravelly. “We have to get her to Col.”

  Col pointed toward the rise. “Flank and attack as stealthily as possible. I can’t tell how many are there. Most of them are huddled in groups.”

  The tribe separated and slunk into the forest, spreading out to flank the wolf camp. Back in his bear form, the wind and snow didn’t bite quite as bad, but he wouldn’t be able to call out for Tara unless he shifted back. None of them would. It was unlikely that she would come toward a large predator, wolf or otherwise. She would hide and that would only slow them down.

  Owen crested the hill and stared into the grey swirling mist. Several fires were glowing inside of lean-to huts. He breathed deeply, hoping to catch Tara’s scent. It was faint, but present. She wasn’t in one of the buildings in the open though. The wind would’ve carried it better. She was hidden. Somewhere.

  He crept forward, mindful of his enormous body. A snarl on the other side of the camp alerted the whole hillside. Wolves poured from a hole in the ground he hadn’t noticed before. By Fate there had to be nearly two dozen and that was a sloppy count.

  Owen charged forward, ripping holes into wolves with his three-inch claws as they came at him. More screams—human and animal—filled the night.

  Night was falling. The fires were out. Darkness enveloped the hillside.

  Owen listened to the crunching snow beneath paws much smaller than his. The scent of wolf filled his nostrils, but the scent of Tara was stronger. She was in the hole. They had her underground. Relief relaxed him just a bit. She was safer from the cold there. Less likely to be freezing to death, but no way was his bear going to fit into their den.

  He roared, calling attention to himself. Calling more wolves to attack him and ignore the silent cats slinking across the hill toward the den entrance. He’d seen the tiger’s eyes reflected for just a moment. The striped cat was significantly slimmer than any of them, including the oversized lions. But even he shook his big orange head when he reached the den entrance—still to big—and shifted to human form.

  Owen growled and sent a wolf body flying off into the darkness. The tiger shifter would be vulnerable as a man. Unable to defend himself as efficiently.

  Owen pushed through the snow, closing the distance between himself and the entrance. The male had already disappeared into the dark mouth of the den, but the least Owen could do was watch the male’s back and keep any wolves from backtracking in after him.

  Pain seared through his shoulder and Owen snarled, biting down on the furry canine attached to his body. His fangs drew blood and ripped through bone. The animal released him and cried out in pain. Owen swung at the retreating wolf with his claw, sending it hurtling through the darkness. The body connected with a tree trunk and Owen grunted at the satisfying snap of bones.

  Through the white soup of swirling snow, Owen saw two wolves jump on Col’s back. True to his word, the dragon didn’t shift—knowing there were tunnels, now, it was even more important. As a dragon, his weight would collapse everything the wolves had dug out. Col shifted his hands into deadly talons, but one of the wolves had his teeth deep into the dragon-man’s back. The cry of pain…of surprise was unmistakable. Owen took a step forward and then stopped. What was he doing? The dragon was going to kill him…if he survived. Another wolf jumped at Col. Now there were three chewing on the tribe’s alpha.

  Owen glanced around. The snow blocked nearly all visibility. He couldn’t see anyone else and it was likely they couldn’t see Col either.

  If the alpha died, there would be no one in Mystery capable of carrying out his death sentence. The lions and tiger weren’t alpha material. They wouldn’t care about Owen.

  But Tara would care that he’d let a man die. A man with a pregnant mate. A man who had come willingly against a pack of wolves to save a human. To help an outcast.

  The dragon risked only himself by staying in his human form instead of risking Tara by becoming a beast so large he might crush her by mistake.

  Time stood still.

  The scent of blood filled his nostrils. He looked at the entrance to the den where the tiger male had disappeared. Then he turned back toward where Col was struggling for his life.

  Dalmeck.

  He had been beaten and cast out of his tribe—marked an aonkan—because of a dirty rotten cheat. In a fair fight, Owen would’ve shredded his challenger. And now he had a death sentence on his head and a mate he wasn’t allowed to keep.

  Owen was just as much an alpha as that reptile sacrificing everything to save his mate—Owen’s mate. A woman who was not part of the tribe. Who was nothing to Col. A woman who wasn’t Reylean by birth.

  Owen was honorable and compassionate. A good leader. He could lead this tribe just as well as any reptile…But so was Col. Even now as his blood stained the snow, the dragon remained in human form. Remained vulnerable for Tara. The dragon was merely keeping tradition. Following a law that had been in place to protect their people for centuries. Owen knew in his heart if an exception was made for him, exceptions would have to be made for others. Exceptions that would likely cost more people their lives.

  Owen lurched forward, away from the tunnel. He wouldn’t watch the alpha die. He wouldn’t become the dishonorable outcast Col thought him to be. No matter what it cost him. And he knew it would cost him everything.

  Owen charged forward through the snow, crashing into the tangled ball of fur and man. Four wolves against Col. And the dragon was losing. Blood poured from Col’s wounds. His heart was slowing. Even in the rush of battle, Owen could see the toll each wound drew from the alpha’s body.

  Owen bit down on the back of one wolf, snapping his backbone instantly and tossed him aside.

  Col was on his knees and the other three wolves were ripping flesh from his sides.

  Owen swiped at another canine with his paw. More red stained the snow and another wolf flew into the swirl of white, never to rise again. The remaining two wolves dropped their hold on Col.

  Col dropped heavily to the snow on his hands and knees, bleeding and exhausted.

  The wolves bared their fangs and Owen roa
red. Not the roar of an angry bear, but the roar of an alpha who demanded submission. The roar of a beast who would make them pay for their crimes. The roar of a man who had nothing left to lose.

  Both canines hesitated and that was their end.

  Owen lunged faster than they could retreat. His claws shredded one and his fangs tore through the body of the second, ending them before they took another breath.

  He stepped out from the center of the blood and bodies and looked over to where Col was climbing unsteadily to his feet. Some of his wounds were already beginning to heal over, but the blood loss had been significant. It would slow him down considerably.

  Owen’s gaze met the dragon’s and he saw something different in the fire-glow of the alpha’s eyes. Something akin to respect. Acknowledgement.

  He shifted to his human form and knelt in the blood-red snow at Col’s feet. He wouldn’t live much longer. He had watched Col get attacked. He had hesitated to help him. He had saved him in the end, but still…the dragon wouldn’t forget the hesitation. And Owen didn’t expect him to.

  This was his end.

  19

  Owen breathed deeply. He would die an honorable man. Tara would not be ashamed. He had done the right thing. In his heart. He had saved the chief. The man the whole tribe trusted. A man that had found a way to lead multiple species together as one. It was more than Owen would’ve ever tried to do.

  Col stepped closer to Owen. The snow crunched beneath his heavy black boots.

  Owen didn’t raise his head. He didn’t speak. As an alpha born himself, this was the greatest respect he could offer—to put himself in a place of service. Of loyalty.

  A place no alpha would ever sink to.

  Col put his palm flat against Owen’s neck, covering the place where he’d been branded. The skin of the male’s hand was so warm. Warm enough it was uncomfortable, but not enough that he would say anything. No wonder the dragon didn’t feel cold though. It was like he was made of fire.