“It is done, then.”
They clasped each other’s forearms in a known gesture to shifters of camaraderie. “Done,” Mason said.
“Before we part ways, may I take a sample from your vial back with me so my scientists can investigate the virus as well?”
“Um…this is seriously toxic stuff. How will you transport it?”
“I’ll empty a container holding one of my potions, of course.”
That gave Mason a second’s pause. Potions? Well, who was he to judge? “Follow me.”
Without a word, they both shifted into animal form to hasten the trip back. Ollun must’ve used his heightened senses to pick up on Mason’s tracks and scent, because he was perched on top of the rocky ledge waiting, by the time Mason strutted up to the mouth of the cave in human form.
“What?” Mason retorted, annoyed by the look of superiority on Ollun’s face.
Ollun smiled glibly. “I’ll decline to comment.”
“Smart,” Mason said.
“Yes, I know.”
Insufferable, arrogant, holier than thou— Mason cut off that train of thought, before he proved Ollun’s assumptions right about werebear tempers.
Damned hollow-bones. Mason bet Ollun could come up with a more scathing retort, but this wasn’t a contest for biggest jerk, or a competition for which shifter species reigned supreme.
That was until Ollun entered the cave and took an intense fascination with Stephanie. She lay asleep, curled up on her side, tucked into her sleeping bag.
Instantly, Mason stepped between Ollun and Steph. “Look at her like that again,” Mason growled, “and I’ll throw you out of this cave without the vial.”
Ollen’s lids lowered, creating golden half-moons. “Ah. I see.”
Mason’s muscles flexed. “You see what?”
“The source of your frustrated roar. Did the human rebuff your primitive advances?”
“She didn’t deny me anything.” Mason heard the defensiveness in his own voice.
“Mmm.” The smug superiority in Ollun’s tone made Mason’s back tense. “You’re rather taken with this human.”
“None of your business,” Mason snapped. He felt his canines begin to descend and pulled back from his inner territorial bear.
Ollun folded his arms. “If she distracts you from the viral threat imperiling us all, then I might say it is some of my business.” He glanced past Mason’s shoulder. “She is a fetching creature. A redhead no less.” When Ollun’s eyes lit with interest, Mason clenched his fists and took a step forward. “Oh, fear not, my furry friend. Ollusians would never stoop to mate with a pureblood human. Though she is a prize. I can see why she brings out the beast in you.”
“I know who she is, and what she is to me. Now back off.”
Ollun held up his hands. “As you wish. Though indulge me. How is it, mating with a human? Are they as careless with their sexuality as they are with the environment?”
Mason glared beneath the shelf of his brow. “You might be an ally, but I will punch your face in, if you talk about her like that again.”
Ollun laughed. “All right. No more jokes at your expense. Let’s get down to business.”
With slender hands, the Ollusian withdrew a round-bottomed glass bottle from the white folds of his cloak. He emptied its liquid contents into the pool with a light splash, rinsed the container thoroughly, then deftly transferred the infected blood from Mason’s vial to the potion bottle. Both containers were sealed quickly to avoid exposure.
Before he left, Ollun paused, his gaze unusually piercing. “Take care with that one,” he said, tipping his head at Stephanie. “Her heart is damaged. She will need your strength to discover her destiny.”
Blown away by Ollun’s intuitive statement, Mason nodded.
“Best of luck to you.” The man’s lips curved with a whisper of a grin. “You’ll need it.”
“Whatever.” Mason scoffed. “Get your bony owl ass out of here.”
“With pleasure.” Ollun bowed. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Unfortunately,” Mason said under his breath, as Ollun took flight, the vial clutched in his talons.
An owl as an ally. Mason shook his head. Who would’ve guessed?
His gaze drifted to Steph. So innocent, so peaceful, and just out of reach.
“My love.” His voice came out a pained whisper. “My future. My fate.” Distress darkened his hope. “What must I do to win your heart?”
6
The most luxurious sensations lured Stephanie from slumber.
Her scalp tingled pleasurably as fingers combed through her long hair. They gently worked through tangles, never tugging too hard, just the perfect amount of pressure and grace to ease her into awakening.
She blinked up the outrageously handsome man smiling down at her. “Morning,” Mason said, his voice the embodiment of sex appeal.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
Although she didn’t want the caresses to stop, his affections conflicted with his attitude from the night before. He’d been visibly riled by her response to his advances, once she’d returned to her right mind and refused to take things any further with him.
At the erotic memory of him going down on her, she squeezed her inner thighs. Moisture gathered there, and tingles danced on the nerve endings he’d pleasured so thoroughly.
Yet the gentle look he cast her set her at ease. She smiled. “This is the best wakeup call ever.”
The well-hewn muscles of his chest and arms rippled as his hand continued to sift through her curls. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you.” She wanted to tell him he always looked scrumptious, but she didn’t want to invite confusion. Better they remain friendly companions than stray into the complicated territory of lovers.
“I brought you breakfast from the forest.”
She sat up in her sleeping bag. “Really?”
With a broad smile, he handed her a metal cup of ripe raspberries. She popped a few into her mouth and savored the tart juice trickling down her throat. They tasted like little bursts of joy on her tongue. After eating only dried beef and trail mix for days, she couldn’t get enough of their off-the-branch freshness.
“I’ll stand at the cave entrance while you get dressed,” he said after she’d finished the last berry.
Embarrassment crept up her neck, turning her skin the same pink color as the berry stains on her palm. “Thanks.”
She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture, but she wondered if they should talk about what had happened the night before. Then again, what was there to say? She had made her position pretty clear. She wasn’t interested in a fling, even with a guy who put all her ex-boyfriends to shame with his skills and gorgeousness. She didn’t want anything romantic with Mason to turn into another regret. She’d racked up enough of those for one year. She had come on this trip for closure, not to create new loose ends, leaving her to wonder…what if.
Naked except for her sports bra and panties, she dragged her backpack to her side and found fresh clothes for the day. For years as a child she’d slept fully dressed, even wearing shoes to bed, using clothes and blankets as a shield against the fears and uncertainties that had hounded her in the dark. Until her sixth foster family, she’d shuffled from home to home, school to school, alone and afraid all the time. Waiting for the next time her social worker, Greta, showed up to transfer her yet again.
With a heavy sigh, Stephanie approached the pool at the heart of the cave to splash cool water onto her face. The memories of those years weren’t painful, exactly, but she’d carried the sense of abandonment with her for a long time.
The foster family transfers were never caused by behavioral problems or temperament issues on her part. In fact, she’d displayed perfect manners, kept to herself, and hardly spoke to anyone. Still, no matter how perfect she was, something always came up in the family she stayed with—a move for a job, older caretakers who retired, a change in the family’s dynamics—forci
ng her keep moving. The first five families she’d stayed with had treated her all right, but she knew never to grow close to anyone.
Then the Hendricks had entered her life and changed her world. The moment she’d walked through the white fence around their green lawn, entering the red door with the gleaming brass knocker, she’d known she was home. That first night, they’d introduced her a pretty pink bedroom with a canopy bed, and she’d half believed she’d stumbled into a Disney movie where she got to be a princess for a night. They’d given her sheets that felt like soft clouds, set a glass of warm milk on the bedside table, and read books to her until she’d fallen asleep knowing her first taste of real peace.
Since that night, three days before her eleventh birthday, she never wore clothes or shoes to bed again. Not even during the cool nights on the Appalachian Trail, burrowed into the subpar sleeping bag she’d brought with her on this trip, because Kyle had kept all their good camping equipment.
But the focus of this experience wasn’t Kyle, or those old fears of desertion, and she shoved all that to the back of her mind.
As she dressed, though, she recognized the same sense of safety she’d felt the first night with the Hendricks. It enveloped her whenever Mason came near. She shrugged, determined not to read too much into that. She finished rolling up her sleeping bag and attached it to her pack.
Then she discovered both of her water containers were empty. Crap. She’d refilled at Mason’s Bear Necessities lodge, but she’d also hiked longer than usual yesterday. Could she replenish her water from the cave’s pool?
Already thirsty, she drained the few drops leftover. She glanced at the mouth of the cave and saw Mason’s robust shadow sprawl across the rust-colored dirt floor. “Mason?”
He ducked back into the cave the instant she called him. “Everything okay?”
“I’m almost out of water. If I use the iodine drops I brought with me to treat it, do you think the spring water is safe to drink?”
He nodded. “It’s fresh from a natural spring. Much purer than river water, far better than standing water, but use the iodine anyway. Over the years, my brothers and I have come across hundreds of travelers along the trail who didn’t use precautions. Trust me the last thing you want is dysentery.” He made a grossed-out face. “It isn’t pretty.”
“Oh, I believe you.” She held up her hands. “No need for details.”
He chuckled and turned toward his backpack. “I’ll fill up, too.”
Soon, she discovered a problem. She couldn’t reach the spring water trickling from the opening in the rocks, so she dunked her canteens into the pool instead.
By the time Mason came to her side, he lifted her off her knees, taking the second half-filled canteen from her hands. “You can ask me for help, you know. I don’t bite. Hard,” he added under his breath.
His presence surrounded her, warming her skin where he grasped her arm. She gave a nervous little laugh and stepped away.
“I may have been too forward last night, but I’m usually well behaved.” He sent her a sinful grin. “Around you, I can’t seem to help myself.” He glanced at her neck, reached out and drifted the back of one knuckle across a chafe mark on her skin. Her blood heated under his light, sensual touch. “Does it hurt right here?”
Excitement stirred in her veins. Her breasts grew heavy with arousal, the tips hardening beneath her yellow T-shirt. “It’s fine,” she said, her breathing shallow.
“Because if it does, I have a cure for that.”
She swayed unsteadily. “Some natural remedy from the woods?”
“Uh-huh.” Dropping his head, he licked and kissed the spot. The tiny bit of soreness quickly disappeared. “Is that better?” he asked, his breath sliding over her skin like heated silk.
“A little.” She realized her voice sounded throaty, and her words sounded like an invitation.
“Let me try again.” His tongue swirled along her throat. His lips coasted open-mouthed up the arc of her neck and along her jaw, before his teeth nipped her earlobe. “Better?”
She blinked rapidly and nodded.
He grinned against her cheek before he drew back. “I’ve found distraction is the best cure for whatever ails you.”
“I’m cured,” she said in a high-pitched squeak, scampering to the other side of the pool.
“If you ever need a distraction again, I’m here to help.”
“How gallant of you.” She shook her head to clear the potent spell he cast over her with his mouth. “Such self-sacrifice.”
“I know.” He gave a world-weary sigh, though couldn’t hide the ghost of a smile. “A guy does what he can. I live to serve.”
You live to serve yourself, she thought, annoyed she’d fallen for his slick moves. Even if she had all but invited him to kiss her neck. He should re-brand his services to Mason the Seductive Magician, instead of Mason the Trail Guide.
Services. She shivered at the word. Oh, yeah, women would line up for his level of skill, and it had nothing to do with wilderness survival.
If he was trying to get under her skin, he’d succeeded. And she had no idea how to purge him from her system.
Because right this second, her eager gaze drank in the sight of his back and arm muscles flexing as he flattened one hand on the rock wall and leaned over the pool, filling their canteens from the spring. He was big and sexy all over. No doubt in the place where it counted, too. But she would never find out, she told herself, because right that moment, she enjoyed his knee-weakening attentions, knowing their harmless flirtation would go no further.
No loose ends, she reminded her sex-craving body. How sad, she considered, that Kyle hadn’t hadn’t gone down on her in almost a year, hadn’t slept with her the last six months of their relationship, and any display of affection had stopped three months ago. How had she not seen the signs?
Why did she care anymore, anyway? She had a full day of hiking ahead, and she planned to accomplish the goal alongside Mason—without becoming distracted by him. She suspected that would be easier said than done.
As they struck out on their second day together, she glanced upward. Pure blue sky played peek-a-boo between the leafy branches above and promised a beautiful day ahead. She’d take it, gladly. Her first two days on the trail had been filled with drizzling rain and mucky paths. So far, yesterday and today proved far more enjoyable. She also had Mason for company, which made the time pass quicker than being stuck in her head trying to bat away thoughts of Kyle and the unknown future ahead.
Mason talked about his twin brother, Midas. And a second set of twin brothers, Garrett and Grayson. And a third set of twins, Stone and Shane.
“How many twins are in your family?” she asked, amazed.
He shrugged. “All of us have a twin.” A faint smile of amusement touched his lips. “You could say it runs in the family.”
“Your poor mother gave birth to three sets of twins?” she exclaimed. “All boys? God, I feel for her.”
“Hey, we weren’t that bad. Okay we were a handful,” he admitted. “Maybe more than a handful. And there were four.”
She stepped over a mushroom covered log. “Four what?”
“Sets of twins.” A shadow crossed his features. “But my baby brother Brock’s twin died very young. A girl, Beatrix. She would’ve been our only sister.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.” She could tell by the angst in his tone it affected him to this day. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mason nodded in acceptance of her heartfelt words. “In a way, we lost them both. Brock always seemed like something, someone, was missing from his life. I get it. There’s an amazing connection between twins. It’s hard to describe. Tough as he is to take sometimes, Midas is as much a part of me as my arms and legs. We can finish each other’s sentences, like we share the same brain. I have no idea what it would be like to have that level of connection with another soul only to lose it, knowing it can never be replaced.”
“Did Brock recover
as he grew up?”
“I don’t think so.” Mason’s eyebrows lowered. “He’s always been a loner. Angry at the world. Going overseas in the military didn’t help. He mastered his Special Ops training, like we all knew he would, but whatever spark of humanity was in him when he left, it didn’t return when he did. It’s haunting to look into the eyes of a living ghost.”
Sadness pierced her chest and a chill raced up her arms, almost as though she could feel exactly how Mason felt right now. As if she was as connected to him as his twin brother was. But that couldn’t be possible.
As an only child who never knew her birth parents, she empathized with Brock’s loneliness and could understand Mason’s regret. That’s why she experienced this deep, startling connection to Mason, by proxy. Nothing more, she assured herself.
They turned their discussion to lighter subjects. He continued pointing out various plants, their identifying features, and their medicinal properties. She knew penicillin came from mold, but she’d never fathomed that the forest offered its own complete pharmacy to those who understood its healing powers. Two hours passed before thirst overwhelmed her. She gulped half of her first canteen by eleven o’clock.
Within minutes of screwing the cap back on, the strangest thing happened.
The sun shone more intensely through the leaves, casting a bright, hazy glow over the scenery. The scene looked as if her contacts had slipped, or one had popped out without her realizing it. “Mason, stop.”
He did abruptly. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced at the ground in dismay, her view fuzzy. “Crap, there’s no way I’ll find it in all this brush and dirt.”
“Find what?”
“I think I lost a contact.” She hunkered down on a log, used an alcohol wipe to sterilize her fingers, and then poked at her eyes to locate the filmy lenses. Both were intact, she hadn’t lost either one. “I guess not. Weird.”
Standing cautiously, she blinked hard several times and waited for her vision to clear. Yet the glossy coating remained over her surroundings. “Is there pollen in my eyes? Or a bug?”
Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series) Page 6
