Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series)

by Julian, Christine

  His gaze devoured her head to toe. “It would be my pleasure to demonstrate. To show you how unselfish I can be.”

  A new scent blossomed into her awareness. Like dark silk wrapping around a bouquet of wildflowers, the scent embraced her, taking over her senses. Then came a hint of honeysuckle. A dash of wild roses. Sun-warmed field grass. And a deeply sensual musk she couldn’t name. It all blended together in an intoxicating combination.

  Suddenly, her limbs felt loose and heavy. Amazement overtook her as she absorbed the compelling sensations. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening, but it felt so good she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her body felt light, buoyant, as though floating on waves of relaxation.

  That scent…

  It seeped into her pores, infusing her with languid lust.

  Inhibition melted away.

  Lashes drifting shut, she experienced gentle pressure urging her to lie back and give herself over to the strong hands that began to caress her body. Lulled by the musical sound of the water and the warm breeze drifting over her skin, she sighed with pleasure.

  Soft lips explored her neck, drifting to her cleavage in the scoop of her V-neck shirt. Tingles scattered over her body. The fabric of her shirt lifted, exposing her midsection. Typically, her insecurities would’ve kicked in right then, but they’d deserted her. She felt completely desired. She didn’t want it to end.

  No protest rose to her lips, as his mouth created steamy trails across her abdomen. Her arms raised automatically as he lifted her shirt over her head. Luxurious abandon encouraged her to spread her thighs. Her hips rolled upward seeking the promise of pleasure just out of reach.

  Her shorts and panties pooled at her ankles, then disappeared. A glorious weight settled between her open thighs. Her knees curved around broad shoulders.

  “Please,” she whispered, nearly panting with need.

  Rock hard muscles flexed against her outer thighs. He spread her intimate flesh with his thumbs.

  A low, hungry growl preceded the sweep of his tongue along her crease. She let out a trembling moan, her body quivering under the divine movements of his mouth against her. He licked her, tasted her, savored her.

  Erotic whispers encouraged her rising passion, as his tongue brought her toward the peak of pleasure. To her frustration, he then slowed his pace. She arched, desperate for the bliss denied her.

  He licked her slowly. Kissing. Exploring. He made love to her with his mouth. Gradually coaxing her to the edge of release again and again.

  Stimulated to the point of madness, she trembled with urgent need. “Please,” she whimpered, begging for the release she feared to ask for. “Please, let me…”

  “Your pleasure is mine.” His voice came from a sexy rasp in his throat.

  The first ripples of orgasm quickly turned tidal in their force. As she shook in his grasp, she cried out in exquisite pleasure, tumbling free-fall into bliss. His groans vibrated against her throbbing flesh. And he shuddered with her.

  In her pleasure-drenched state, she barely grasped what had just happened. Had his devotion to her pleasure actually made him climax, too?

  Minutes later, once she’d regained full consciousness and returned to the present, she saw his bare chest rising and falling with his breath. Somewhere along the way he’d stripped off his shirt. He sat on his heels, between her thighs, staring down at her face with an expression of satisfaction and adoration.

  She admired his perfectly muscled torso as her gaze drifted downward. Sure enough, a wet circle stained the front of his pants, where his enormous erection still stood at attention. It bolstered the truth of his claim: your pleasure is mine.

  Unheard of, she thought, practically stupefied. How had her climax had triggered his, when all she’d done was lie back and revel in the expert caress of his tongue?

  Even though he’d given her a spectacular orgasm as well as a much-needed boost to her confidence, it wasn’t enough to keep her from instinctively covering up her plump nakedness from the waist down. She snatched her panties and shorts and ducked into the shadows to dress.

  He frowned. “Why would you deprive me of your beauty?”

  “Stop,” she murmured, the heat of embarrassment crawling across her skin. She couldn’t believe she’d let him go down on her, as if she did that kind of thing every time a gorgeous guy got her alone. That damned scent had hypnotized her, or something. She was mad at herself for succumbing so easily, and mad at him for no good reason. Well, maybe one good reason. “We both know I’m not the type of girl that guys like you find attractive.”

  “Excuse me?” His voice rumbled through the cavern. When he stood, his posture appeared nearly menacing. “Did I not just prove you are everything I crave?”

  The sound of his resentment stoked the fire of her resistance, and the need to demonstrate she wasn’t some tramp who let guys seduce her so easily. Why the hell did I just let that happen? “You proved you could put my pleasure before your own. But it’s not like this is going anywhere. In another two days you’ll be at the next post and I’ll be leaving the trail. Don’t get me wrong, what just happened was nice, but—”

  “Nice?” he bellowed.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing. It was amazing, actually, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

  “It doesn’t matter?” He pointed a finger at the juncture of her thighs where he’d buried his face and made her come. “What we shared meant nothing to you?”

  Of course it meant something, though she couldn’t explain why she’d let down her guard. It might have been a mistake. One she didn’t regret, exactly, but his unexpected fascination with her would pass. All too soon, she thought, slightly depressed by the notion, but she couldn’t set herself up for another heartbreak on the heels of the one she’d just endured.

  “What do you want me to say, Mason? That I’m madly in lust with you, and because you gave me the best oral sex of my life without asking for anything in return, we’ll go off and live happily ever after?” When she put it that way, it almost sounded tempting.

  “That’s a decent start,” he snapped.

  She blinked at him. Had their sexual encounter meant that much to him? It just didn’t make sense. Most guys would be thrilled to have a quick fling and move on. Right?

  He paced and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Forget it. I’m going out.”

  “Outside, in the pitch dark? For what?”

  “I need to cool off.” He seemed so offended by all her responses she had no idea what to say. “I’ll be back before morning.”

  “I hope so,” she said, worried.

  “Do you?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that. Get some sleep. We have a major hike ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Then he stormed off into the night.

  5

  A few feet from the cave, Mason shifted into bear form. He bolted at a full run.

  His claws dug into the earth, kicking up reams of dirt behind him. Branches scraped him, catching patches of fur as he barreled through the trees.

  He felt punished by the heartbreak in her past. Unfairly judged by standards he hadn’t created or deserved, but fell victim to anyway.

  The sinister urge boiled up inside him to track down her ex-fiancé and tear the flesh from his bones.

  In the middle of the dark forest, far from the cave, he reared onto his hind legs and roared at the top of his lungs.

  When his front paws touched ground again, the woods grew deathly quiet around him. He gave himself a rough, full-body shake, and several burs flung off his thick coat.

  Being denied by his mate had wounded him more deeply than expected. And, Ancients help him, he wanted to claim her with a ferocious intensity he’d never experienced before.

  He’d always been driven—with passions that ran hot and fierce like the rest of his kind—but he’d always been the brother who maintained his cool when the fur flew. As the first-born offspring of his father’
s prized Alterra bloodline, he prided himself on calculated decisions and concise action. Right now, he wanted to claw the bark off every tree in sight. His head was not in a good place.

  Twigs snapped and under his heavy strides. The cool night air felt good on his heated skin.

  It still dumbfounded him Steph had succumbed to the pheromone mating scent, letting him taste her sweet honey, only to scamper away when he was done and cover herself, telling him it meant nothing to her.

  The opposite was true for him. At first taste, he knew only she could quench his sexual desires. For life. The thought of being intimate with any woman, other than her, repulsed him. Somehow, he needed to ensnare her until she felt the same way as he did. But the path toward that end eluded him.

  The clear hoot of an owl pierced his somber mood. A whoosh of air drew his attention overhead, where the bird landed on a branch high above.

  Mason gave a sloughing sound in recognition of the creature. Then he issued a particular sound from deep in his gut, a signature only a shifter recognized.

  Before he could blink, the owl morphed into human form—or, he assumed, what owls looked like in human form. He’d only come across a few in this area since assuming his Master Guardian status. And the Ollusians, as they called themselves, hadn’t stuck around to chat.

  The man’s long, white-blond hair fluttered in the night wind, mirroring the way his white robes flowed like sheets of silk around his narrow body. His facial features were pale, small and sharply hewn, with a perpetual, self-important expression.

  “What troubles the mighty bear?” the man questioned mildly, his tone suggesting he really didn’t care.

  Mason eyed him, shifting into human form as well. “I thought Ollusians had no interest in the concerns of others.”

  “You interrupted my hunting, scared every morsel halfway to Georgia with your noisy griping. I care about that,” the man said, idly inspecting the neat crescents of his nails. “Salmon bone stuck in your craw? Or did you run out of lox for breakfast?”

  “Hilarious,” Mason muttered, not rising to the Ollusian’s bait. He’d like to talk to someone about his stale-mate situation with Steph, but not to this guy. What would an Ollusian know about taking a human mate?

  Besides, Mason needed to shelve his erratic emotions and focus the overarching event that impacted them all. Before he revealed his information about the mutated rabies strain, though, he needed the bird man to answer some questions. “I haven’t run across many owl shifters. I’m curious, how closely is your DNA tied to humans?”

  “By a thread.” The man’s lips curled with disdain. “Careless, destructive creatures. I don’t see why all our Ancestors didn’t band together to wipe them out in their infancy.”

  Mason peered at him. “How long have Ollusians existed?”

  “A bear wants to discuss my species? Most unexpected.” The man shrugged. “Very well. Here’s your history lesson. I’ll use small words. Try and keep up.”

  Mason gave a rough grunt. “First, tell me your name.”

  “Ollun,” the shifter replied. “I am to my kind what you are to yours, although we’re far too advanced for terms like Master or Alpha. But I am of similar status as yourself.”

  “So a caretaker.”

  “A guide,” Ollun corrected. “Or the more banal, ‘leader,’ if your simple mind prefers.”

  Mason ignored the man’s digs on his intelligence. “Your lineage is purer, stronger than others of your race,” he said.

  Ollun blinked his golden eyes slowly. “Yes. My kin came from the stars. A galaxy far beyond this one. Though why the Ancients deposited us on this dreary, dull planet, I do not know and will never forgive them.”

  Interesting. Mason had never heard about this aspect of the Ollusian creation mythology. Mason, however, held the utmost respect for Mother Earth. “Don’t we all come from stardust?”

  Ollun clicked his tongue mockingly. “Poor, simple creature. Have you never questioned how owls came to have both eyes facing directly in front, more so than other raptor species?”

  “Never had a reason to.”

  Ollun sent him a sorrowful glance as if Mason had failed an elementary intelligence test. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re bound to the earth in all ways, whereas we hunt at night under the stars to feel the distant bond to our Ancestors. You, on the other hand, sleep in your own dung.”

  “Watch it,” Mason warned. “Werebears aren’t dumb lumbering beasts, we don’t hibernate, and we have taken an oath of protection toward humans. We’re not slaves to our baser natures.”

  Ollun looked down his narrow nose at Mason. “Your yowl only minutes ago suggests otherwise.”

  Snotty know-it-all. Mason bit back a snarl. He decided to appeal to the Ollusian’s intellectual curiosity, if he was going to get anywhere with the condescending man. “Fine. Since your bloodline is purer than others, like mine, you may not be affected. I don’t need to tell you what we’ve discovered.”

  Ollun’s eyes lit up like two yellow moons. “What discovery?”

  Mason shrugged and turned away. “Doesn’t matter. None of your concern.”

  “Now wait.” The man leapt from the branch and floated to the ground, the sleeves of his white garment billowing. He landed with hardly a sound, directly in front of Mason. “Does it impact the forest?”

  Mason nodded. “Specifically shifters.”

  “Is it damaging?”

  “Highly.”

  “Then I demand to have this knowledge for the sake of our kind.”

  “Oh, now it’s our kind. How generous of you to sink to our level.”

  Ollun sniffed. “Not for the desire to, but for the necessity of it.”

  “Then you should be aware of the dire implications.”

  The Ollusian arched a dark-flecked blonde eyebrow. “Two big words in the same sentence. Now you’re just showing off to impress me.”

  “You want impressive?” Mason growled. “My medical team has discovered a rabies strain that kills werewolves. In days.”

  Ollun glared. “That’s your news?” He scoffed. “Who cares about them? Good riddance.”

  “The strain has mutated,” Mason said with forced patience. “There is no telling how widespread the virus could go. Even your precious birds could contract it if bitten by a species carrying a deadly strain.”

  “We are expert hunters.” Ollun’s eyes flashed. “Unlike you ground dwellers, we swoop in and impale our prey before it knows it has become dinner.”

  Unimpressed, Mason crossed his arms. “What about snakes that coil around your claws with a strangle hold and get in one last jab with their fangs?”

  Ollun shuttered in disgust. “Vile serpents. Our ancient tales suggest they are our mortal enemies in another galaxy.”

  “I don’t care about your distant galaxy,” Mason retorted. “I care about the planet we live on and the woods we call home. Fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, vermin—things we come in contact with daily could carry a strain that will wipe shifters off the map. Within months.”

  Paling to a ghostly white, Ollun peered at him. “That cannot happen. Can it?”

  Mason nodded. “It will happen. It’s only a question of when. This strain is targeted. Our wildlife brethren may carry it and not even know until one turns on our kind and bam!” Mason slammed a fist against his palm, causing Ollun to startle. “We’re decimated.”

  Looking drawn, and a little less haughty, the owl shifter blinked his wide eyes. “Our own naturally-wild kind could turn on us.” He folded his long fingers and started pacing. “This is most disturbing.”

  “Yeah.” Mason huffed. “Welcome to my world.”

  When Ollun sent him a droll look, Mason chuckled at his unintended pun.

  “What of the purer shifter strains, such as you and myself? Could we be immune?” Ollun asked.

  “Not sure. It’s possible, but I doubt it. One of my clan of a lesser bloodline tested the virus on her blood in the lab. The results weren�
�t bad—they were devastating.”

  Finally appearing to grasp the implications, Ollun shook his head despairingly, his long hair skimming his shoulders. A cloud of dismay hovered over his features.

  “I have a vial of the strain with me.” Mason glanced in the direction of the cave, and the sudden untamable need to protect Steph slammed into his chest. “I’m taking it to my brother’s post for further investigation. The worst of the strains were found in wolves from the northern trail. But it’s only a matter of time before it reaches our borders.”

  “And wreaks havoc on us all,” Ollun finished. His eyebrows lowered. “Who else knows? How have other shifter races responded?”

  “You’re the first to get the news. Lucky you,” Mason said without humor, slapping his palm on Ollun’s shoulder.

  The owl shifter cringed under Mason’s heavy hand.

  “Sorry,” Mason said. “I forgot about the whole hollow bones thing.”

  The curl of disgust returned to Ollun’s upper lip. “Do not mistake my interest as an invitation for an ally.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “Right. Why would I? You’re so much more advanced, and yet my people discovered the strain. Chew on that tonight, along with regurgitated mouse entrails.”

  “You bears are indelicate idiots.”

  “You owls are pompous pricks.”

  To Mason’s surprise, his comment made Ollun grin. “True. But no one says it to our faces.”

  Grinning back, Mason shrugged. “What can I say? Bears tell it like it is.”

  “A quality I may come to appreciate. Slowly,” Ollun added with a stern look.

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You won’t friend me on Facebook.”

  The comment drew a puzzled expression from Ollun.

  “Never mind. Will you at least accept the ally part of this cooperative? Strategically, we’re better off working together.”

  Ollun nodded. “I will speak with my flock, but yes. We are on the same side.” He wrinkled his nose. “I never imagined I would say such a thing to a bear.”

  “We’re all shifters,” Mason reminded him. “And you may not care that much, but that bond matters to me. I hope you’ll treat it with the respect I intend to.”