Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series)

by Julian, Christine

  Between their survivalist stores along the trail, he and his twin brother, Midas, had constructed several cedar lean-to structures. As teenagers, they’d taken to the forest for days, weeks even, using the lean-tos for shelter from any type of weather. In ice, snow, rain, or blistering heat, the half-open structures had provided base camps for their Trail Guardian training. Each of their twin brothers after them had utilized the coverings for the same purpose. As a Trail Guardian master, Mason knew it wouldn’t be occupied at present.

  “Here we are. Home sweet home for tonight,” he said with a tinge of pride.

  “Nice. Sure beats sleeping in a stuffy tent, or on the cold ground in a cave.”

  He winked. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  She inspected the massive twenty-foot tall, river-stone fireplace that had taken longer to create than the lean-to itself. “You may not have to, check out this impressive fireplace.”

  He frowned. “What if I want to be what keeps you warm all night?”

  She sent him a flirtatious glance. “I think we could make our own heat.”

  “You think? Baby, I know.” He scooped her beside him with one arm and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hang here for a minute, while I sweep out the place and set up for the night.”

  “Okay.” She reached for the flashlight clipped to her belt, as she withdrew a map of the region and investigated it.

  After divesting several spiders of their homes and sweeping leaves out of the corners, he lit a fire. The wide mouth of the hearth was positioned three feet off the ground, in line with the upraised floor of the lean-to. Then he brought in the packs, resting them along one side, and unrolled their sleeping bags. Instead of setting them up individually, he laid his down first and hers on top.

  Perfect. A feather bed, the rich scent of cedar enclosing them, and a soft fire glowing. His cock stirred, knowing what he planned to do to her between those sleeping bags.

  “Mason.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m starving.”

  Me, too. Not for food, but for her.

  “Sure, Steph.” Seduction could wait. They had all night. He grinned like a horny fool. “Come on in.”

  “Ooh, this is great,” she said upon entering. “Kinda romantic.”

  “Kinda what I was going for.”

  “You succeeded.” She plopped down in the center of the sleeping bags, laid back, and stretched out. “So nice.”

  Dude, chill, he told his bear. It released a feral growl deep in his chest.

  She sat up, eyes wide. “What was that?”

  “Probably a raccoon.” He had to make up something to cover for the sound he’d made. “Sometimes you’ll hear them growl and snarl over territory at dusk.”

  “Oh.” She shifted uneasily. “At least in a cave there’s only one way in and one way out. Here there’s two, each side is half open to the elements and creatures.

  He flashed her a grin. “Raccoons don’t stand a chance against me.” If she only knew. With one paw he could pitch a raccoon away like a homerun hitter knocks a baseball out of the park. Not that he would, but he could. “I’m just saying, you’re in good hands.”

  Resting her fingertips on his forearm, she said, “I feel safer with you than anywhere else.”

  His bear basked in the praise of her statement, slightly mollified—for the moment. Thank the Ancients. “Besides, people don’t need protection from the woods. More often, the woods needs protection from people.”

  “That’s profound.” She shivered slightly. “I’d prefer a door I can shut, but this is definitely an improvement over last night’s accommodations or the tiny tent in my pack.”

  “Isn’t that why you came to the trail? To get closer to nature and find perspective?”

  She sighed. “Point taken.”

  “Dinner will be ready in five.”

  “Great.”

  Stephanie watched Mason, and she salivated over him and the way the sterno flames heated up a can of chili that filled the air with the scent of spiced ground beef. He set up a small rack and added a can of corn beside the chili. When the liquid in the cans bubbled, he handed her a fork and they dug in.

  No wonder he sported a trim, muscular physique. Protein and vegetables, the dinner of champion weightlifters and weight-losers, so she’d been told by her ex. But no one could separate her eternally from a steaming bowl of pasta or cheesy potatoes. Just wouldn’t happen. Mashed potatoes mixed with a dollop of cream cheese, topped by a pad of butter and smothered in sausage gravy? Bring it on. She’d eat salads for a week to balance that divine splurge.

  “You look like you just had a sip of joy juice,” Mason said with amusement in his tone, distracting her from her culinary fantasy.

  “No,” she laughed. “Just thinking of the first meal I’m going to make when I get home.”

  She watched his smile slide downward.

  “What’s is it?”

  “I don’t want to think about you going home.”

  Intrigued, feeling a flutter in her chest, she asked, “Why?”

  He shot her an intense look, his eyes dark, brooding, smoldering. “Because I haven’t had enough time with you. I want more.”

  Although flattered, she huffed a brief laugh. “I’d think you’d had enough of me after my klutzy move today, almost breaking both our necks.” She pitched the empty cans and plastic silverware into a disposable bag. “And you managing to save my life, and all.”

  “I’ll always protect you. A life with you is what I want.”

  The stark emotion in his stare swallowed her into its depths. She lost her breath. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. “Mason…”

  The moment she said his name, she unexpectedly unleashed a passionate aggression in him that she hadn’t see coming. He groaned into her open mouth as he kissed her, gliding his tongue along the length of hers. Nudging her thighs apart to fit his knees. Settling his hips against her.

  Oh. My. God.

  His erection was a steel rod against her inner thigh.

  It feels so good to be wanted.

  Tearing off his bandages with his teeth, he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. He unbuttoned her shorts with the other.

  Arching her back, she invited his sexual advance. She’d craved the press of his hard body against her since she drank her canteen of crazy water. Her breath hitched and she lost all coherent thought, as he slid his fingers over the rounded swell of her abdomen, toward her panty line.

  She lifted her bottom off the sleeping bag. Mmm, yes, touch me there.

  Suddenly, Mason sat up between her thighs, his back stiff, muscles rippling. The hair on his arms rose like hackles, alert to a threat.

  No, no no, she thought in soundless frustration. I finally want to have sex, and now you stop?

  He lifted his nose in the air. “Something’s off.”

  “You got distracted, that’s what is off.” Then she considered another possibility. “Shoot. I didn’t bring condoms, either. But I am on the pill.”

  “Outside,” he stated, turning toward the right open entryway.

  “I didn’t hear anything.” Except my moans, because it feels so good being with you. She wound her arms around his neck, attempting to bring his focus back on her.

  He gently pried her hands away. “I need to check it out.”

  Deflated, she drew the top sleeping bag around her half-naked body. This whole outdoors thing sucked for a girl’s love life. She considered what a lame honeymoon destination this would’ve been, especially since her ex had chosen it. She was glad she’d done this trail hike on her own—and with Mason.

  If only the protective survivalist in him would turn off that switch, and just enjoy the sensual moment. Instead of worrying about a noise he might have heard or a scent he might have caught.

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, but—”

  “Shhh.” The sharp sound robbed her of speech. She’d never seen this anxious, alert side of him.

&nbs
p; A snarl came from the woods.

  Startled, she yelped. “Okay, I heard that.”

  Cursing under his breath, he pulled up his shorts. “Grab the satellite phone out of my pack, the first small zippered pocket. Dial the last number on the phone. It goes directly to Tyce, should something happen to me.”

  Fear scraped her nerve-endings like talons. “Mason, don’t go out there.”

  “I have to. I vowed to protect you, and I will.”

  Maybe it was a trick of light and shadow. Or a spike of fear-filled adrenaline, skewing her vision.

  But she swore Mason’s appearance altered before her eyes.

  His shoulders widened. His bare chest broadened and looked a bit fuzzier than before. A low rumble came from his heaving chest. And his face changed. Changed. His nose protruded and flattened at the tip. His eyes went totally black in their sockets. His cheeks narrowed. The orange firelight illuminated the flash of teeth behind snarling lips. His canines resembled a vampire’s.

  What in the hell?

  She clutched the sleeping bag under her chin and scooted away.

  “Put out the fire,” he growled low. “Stay safe. Out of sight.”

  Sitting in the darkness, unnerved—no, disturbed—she wondered if she needed to keep herself safe from an unseen threat in the night…or him?

  9

  Mason ducked out of the lean-to. Twenty paces away, he shed his shorts so he could return and put them on again, once he’d nullified the threat and transferred back to human form. As he shifted, his ribs snapped and popped as loud as the twigs beneath his lengthening paws. The pain during a shift had never bothered him. It had always come naturally, as it did now, and he hurtled over obstacles, racing deeper into the dark forest.

  His bear responded to three primal calls: food, sex, and threats. He hadn’t eaten much except a small can of chili with corn. Sex with Steph had been interrupted. Now a threat loomed in the darkness.

  A taste for blood and vengeance fueled his instincts, triggering an animalistic rage. He tracked the scent of wolf. But only one. Yet wolves traveled in packs. Although werewolves didn’t always.

  Was he after another shifter like himself?

  Bring it on.

  As the apex predator, he held the advantage. If the creature was an infected werewolf, he didn’t look forward to the confrontation, but he had no doubt as to who would walk away. Besides, Tyce might need a fresh specimen to help trace the virus’s mutations. If Mason obtained a sample of its blood before he killed it and it turned to ash, this could prove a worthwhile fight. As long as he didn’t contract the virus himself.

  That thought pulled him up sharply. His human side warred with his bear instinct for annihilation of all threats. He reared onto his hind legs, sniffing the air, more cautious now. Infected, he’d be no good to anyone, and he’d leave his mate unprotected.

  Ancients only knew what the disease might do to a werebear in the flesh. No telling what could happen, no matter how pure his bloodline ran.

  The closer he came to the origination of the scent, the more confusion baited him. The scent trail didn’t follow the typical patterns that wolves and their dog brethren followed.

  Something didn’t sit right, and his bear went on the alert. His expert nose followed the serpentine trail to a huge, centuries-old Oak tree. There it stopped.

  What the…?

  Had he been duped?

  He bellowed the equivalent of a foul curse in bear language. His thick claws dragged bark off the tree, leaving deep, ragged grooves.

  Someone was fucking with him. He wasn’t amused.

  A swoosh of air careened past his head, ruffling his fur. Only one night bird possessed that mystical capability of silent flight.

  Rage poured through his dilated veins. “Ollun,” he roared in bear.

  “Hear me out before you curse me out,” Ollun said from the safety of a high branch.

  Disgusted, Mason dug in his claws and lunged up the tree toward the man seated on the branch.

  Swiftly, Ollun shifted back into a bird and flew to the adjacent tree. Mason sloughed a growl from his lungs. The winged bastard. He crawled down from the tree and shifted into human form. “What is your goddamn problem?” he snarled.

  Ollun changed to human form, as well, and held up his hands. “You’re going to thank me.”

  “You can bite my furry ass.”

  It thoroughly irritated him that Ollun held some kind of magic enabling him to come into human form fully clothed. A potion like that, even if it was an illusion, would prove useful and strategic for his fellow werebears, especially when leading trail expeditions with human hikers.

  Not that he expected the wily devil to share anything useful with him.

  As if the man had read his thoughts, Ollun grinned craftily. “How did my love potion work for you, hmmm?”

  “Screw you.”

  “And did you? Screw?”

  “No, asshole. I chased this idiotic scent you manufactured so I could protect my mate. I seriously hate you right now.”

  Ollun shook his head and clucked his tongue. “After all I did for you. That love potion doesn’t come cheap, you know.”

  “Owl soup does,” Mason retorted. “I could pluck you faster than a turkey on Thanksgiving and have you boiled in a hot minute

  Ollun rolled his yellow eyes. “Save your hot minute for your mate.”

  “And now you insult my sex drive. Fantastic.” Mason spread his arms. “What the hell do you want for the trouble you’ve caused me?”

  “The Ollusian spy network has sent word to my flock. There’s a pack of infected werewolves heading your way. I assumed you’d want to know.”

  Alarm flashed through Mason. “How reliable are these spies?”

  Ollun sniffed. “The human Secret Service could only wish it had our skills and range. While you bears are guarding the Appalachian Trail, who do you think watches over the Trail Guardians, hmmm?”

  “You watch over us.” Mason’s tone dripped with doubt.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” Olllun said with a secretive smile. “How do you think I knew where to find you in your triangle hut? When you and your brother went on your guardian trials, we were there, watching and safeguarding you. We all have our part to play in the trail hierarchy, time-honored alliances created by the Ancients, upheld by the Ancestors.”

  From what Mason had heard through the trail vine, owl shifters never let the truth get in the way of a good story. But he couldn’t afford to ignore the owl’s warning. He figured they were kind of like the ninjas of the animal kingdom. Silent, calculating, and deadly.

  “How far out are the werewolves?” he asked.

  Ollun rubbed his lean chin. “Our estimation is about two days. It’s a pack of six. Taking into account they are shifters, they’re larger than typical wolves. So perhaps less than two days. They appear to be on a mission.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “They stop for neither food nor rest. Think on it.” Ollun became less shrewd and more serious. “When a traditional animal acquires rabies, the virus infects its host and takes over brain and motor function. The sole aim of any living thing—including viruses—is to propagate the species.”

  Mason folded his arms. “What are you getting at?”

  “We’re still running tests on the tainted blood you’re taking to your brother’s town hospital. Nothing is certain yet. But every species is driven by nature to replicate. If the virus has mutated, and decides it wants to spread faster, the host will seek to infect others. Since this appears to be a shifter-specific strain, it needs more of our kind to speed its progress, and ensure its survival. Isn’t your brother the sheriff of an entire colony comprised of shifters?”

  Mason’s blood ran cold. “They’re heading for Haventown?”

  “You may draw your own conclusions. I’m merely the messenger. Though I suspect that is their final destination.”

  Mason bellowed a string of curses. “I’ve got
to warn them.”

  Ollun yawned and stretched. “Yes, well, do as you must. It’ll be an early morning for you. Better get some sleep.”

  The man blinked one eye, like a wink. Transforming, he flew soundlessly into the night.

  Mason raked his hands through his hair. “What a damned mess.”

  If Ollun was part of some spy network, like he claimed to be, why couldn’t he fly to Haventown and warn them himself? Weird, irritating, useless bird.

  Then again, since the owls stayed to themselves, outliers in comparison to other shifters who often intermingled, Mason supposed Ollun showing up in the middle of the night bearing grave news would raise eyebrows. And suspicions.

  In his backpack, Mason carried proof of dangerous virus. That, along with his word, would be enough to convince his brother the town needed to go on high alert, preparing themselves for the deadly wrath bearing down on them.

  Thoughts swirling, he returned to the spot twenty yards from the lean-to, where he’d left his shorts before he’d shifted. He wasn’t prepared to reveal the truth to Steph before he sealed their mating by making love to her. Their mating would ensure her survival, even beyond his personal protection.

  Instantly, he caught her scent. His mate, in the peak of her cycle—their equivalent of a female in heat—enflamed his desire and cemented his need to claim her. If he didn’t, she’d receive no protection from his clan. Not that he planned to go anywhere, anytime soon. It was just that non-mates weren’t given priority or safety in the event his soul crossed over into the Ancients’ High Realm. He wanted to offer Steph that safety net—no, he needed to, because his sense of duty and honor required nothing less than full commitment.

  Sweat glistened on his bare chest from his exertions, he walked into the lean-to. Remnants of lit coals sent hushed light through the space. He fought to steady his breathing so he didn’t worry her, or give any hint of the harrowing news from Ollun. He was still dissecting the ramifications himself.

  But with the wolf pack two days out, he had enough time to claim his mate tonight. He intended to make every second amazing for her. As incredible as it would be for him.

  Except, when he faced her, he caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. He crawled in beside her, lacing his fingers through hers. “I checked it out, sweetheart. The coast is clear.” For now.