by Zoe Chant
Then, through the thick haze of desire, he became aware of an impatient pony nuzzling at his leg. A moment later, when he didn’t stir, an angry whinny followed.
“Well,” he murmured with difficulty. “Maybe not right here and now. This is, after all, supposed to be their lunch.”
Carrie giggled again, her eyes still wide and dark with passion as she allowed him to pull her up.
“The hayloft?” she suggested with a downright naughty little wink. “No one will go up there until it’s time for the ponies’ evening hay.”
“I like the way you think.” Darrell growled happily, and then swept her up in his arms.
“Don’t! Let me down!” she demanded through her laughter. “There’s no way you can climb up a ladder with me—”
“Just watch me try,” Darrell said, smug and happier than he’d ever been as he twirled around with her in his arms.
This gorgeous, sexy woman was his—and only his. He had no idea how he’d come to deserve her—but now that he had her, he’d make sure that she’d never, ever feel lonely again. She’d always know just how loved and cherished she was.
They were halfway to the ladder when they heard the shot outside.
Carrie froze in his arms. Without even thinking about it, Darrell put her down and stepped between her and the door.
“Was that—” Carrie began.
Quiet, Darrell sent through the mate bond. That was a shot.
His heart pounded as he listened. Every instinct screamed at him to shift and go outside, to protect his mate with the strength of his teeth and his claws—but that was the bear inside him. His human part knew what was more important.
The farm is surrounded by shifters. If someone tried to slip through, they’ll attack immediately. That’s probably what happened. Any moment, Glory will come in and tell me they’ve got him...
Silently, Darrell nodded towards a stack of straw bales. He trusted his clan—but all the same, in this case, he’d have to make sure his mate was safe. Even if that meant hiding in the stable until they got the all-clear. There was no way he’d take his eyes off her until the assassin was safely in handcuffs.
Carrie’s hand was trembling a little as it slipped into his own, but her face was pale and determined. Together, they moved quietly towards the straw, crouching in the shadows behind the bales. The straw was stacked up high here—as long as they didn’t stand up, anyone who came into the stable for a quick glance would miss them.
Several long, torturous minutes of silence followed.
All Darrell could hear was the breathing of the ponies. They’d clearly sensed that something was wrong. They’d stopped eating. Instead, they’d gathered in a little circle in the middle of the stable, shifting restlessly. Every now and then, one of them released a nervous huff.
The pony that Darrell recognized as the one that had tripped him now took a step forward, eying the door to the stable.
Were the ponies just unsettled by the shot and their reaction to it? They’d have to sense their fear.
Or maybe they could sense the shifters that must have gathered wherever the shot had come from. Logan had reassured them that the animals had by now become used to bear shifters in human forms—but a large gathering of shifted bears that smelled of teeth and claws and danger was surely different.
Carrie pressed against him. Her hand came to rest on his arm. Still they waited.
For long, agonizing minutes, everything was silent.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud roar. It was closer than the shot had been.
Everything inside Darrell was tense. Inwardly, he was vibrating, like a steel wire under too much tension. What was going on outside?
His bear could barely be contained, now that the threat to his mate was so close. The animal wanted to race outside and deal with the intruder himself.
But he couldn’t leave her alone, not even to protect her. He could feel her fear through the bond. Carrie was a cat—and faced with a gun, the claws of a cat wouldn’t be much protection.
I won’t abandon you, he sent through the bond. We’re in this together. Forever.
Fear and love came pulsing back at him as she pressed herself against him. She was very still. The sharp senses of his bear could smell her fear. But through the bond, he could also pick up on her determination.
His mate wouldn’t waver. She was strong—this time, her cat wouldn’t take over again out of panic.
He squeezed Carrie’s hand, then pulled it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. It wasn’t a lot, but he could feel her relaxing a little, her hair soft against his shoulder as they waited together.
And then, another shot resounded. This one was even closer—so close that the ponies began to stamp the ground in fear, manes and tails swishing as they began to restlessly move towards the back of the barn, away from the door that led into the yard.
Carrie had flinched at the shot. Immediately, Darrell wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her close while a thousand different thoughts raced through his head.
Should he go out? The assassin had made it onto the farm—what if he’d taken out the other shifters that had gathered to protect Carrie? Should they take the small door at the back of the barn and try to sneak away through the fields into the forest as long as they still could?
What if one of his friends was dying out there, needing his help? What if his attack would take out the assassin, and so save Carrie?
Then, there was another roar. It was the angry, rolling thunder of an enraged bear’s voice, the deadly challenge of a powerful alpha defending his clan.
Logan, Darrell thought in relief.
Other voices joined in. There had to be at least six or seven bear shifters out there—all of them sounding deadly angry—and neither of them sounding afraid or in pain.
And then, there was a growl.
Wolf. Werewolf, his bear rumbled.
A small smile spread over Darrell’s face.
Carrie’s father. He’d stuck to his promise. He’d taken up watch as well—and he’d come to their help, as he had promised.
“What—” Carrie began softly.
Darrell pressed a finger to his lips, still listening.
A moment later, there was another wolf growl—this one a snarl so violent that Darrell could see the sharp, bared fangs and gleaming yellow eyes in his mind.
And then, at last, there was the scream of a human voice.
“Stay—stay away,” a stranger shouted, his voice shrill to the point of hysteria. “Fucking beasts! Stay away, I tell you!”
There was another growl, which Darrell recognized as Logan’s voice—this time it sounded nearly amused.
They've got the situation under control, Darrell realized in relief. They must have snatched the gun.
“I think it’s all right now,” he whispered, turning to Carrie. “They’ve got him. There’s nothing the mob can do against six angry bear shifters. Six bears—and one very angry wolf.”
Carrie’s eyes widened a little. “Wolf? My father! He really came. And he risked his life for me.”
She fell silent then, as if she couldn’t continue. Darrell pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.
You’ll have the family you deserve, he thought fiercely. From now on, everything’s going to be different. I’ll make sure of that.
“I want to talk to him,” Carrie said quietly when she finally pulled back. “There’s so much I want to know. I want to know about him. I want to know everything he remembers of my mother. And—there was a photo he held. I want to know about that, too.”
Darrell inclined his head in agreement. “I think we might actually persuade him to stick around for a talk now. Wolves are proud—and that one reeked of guilt. He should feel better now. I could hear him join the fight. Whatever he did in the past, he was ready to sacrifice his own life to save yours.”
Carrie smiled slightly, her eyes still full of worry. “I’d never demand that
. Still—I’m so glad he stuck around.”
Slowly, they stood, surveying the stable. The herd of ponies was still restless. The pony that had toppled Darrell earlier stood in the center of the stable, neck going back and forth as the tiny stallion blew air through his nose.
“They’ll calm down once all the shifters are gone,” Darrell said. “I’m sure Chris will be close—if he isn’t already out there. And once that hitman’s off in jail, all of this will be over. The only one who’ll still be in trouble with the mob is your boss, and frankly, I don’t care about his fate at all. He made his bed when he decided to set you up.”
Somewhere behind them, a door creaked. At the same time, the pony’s head shot around, eyes rolling as he snorted a warning.
But it was too late.
Deep inside, Darrell already knew that it was too late when he whipped his head around, protectively jumping in front of Carrie before he’d even seen what was going on.
A second later, Carrie gasped, and Darrell found himself looking at the barrel of a gun.
“Fuck,” Darrell said through clenched teeth. “I should have known there’d be two of you.”
I thought the wolf was the second man...What sort of paranoid mobster sends out three hitmen at once?
This one was clearly the smarter of the assassins. He’d covered his face so that Darrell could only see his eyes.
“Step away from the girl,” the man said. “Keep out of this and you’ll survive. It’ll only take a second.”
“You have no fucking idea what’s going on, do you?” Darrell asked, allowing a slow smile to spread over his face.
He could possibly take out the man if he shifted and jumped at him—but there was always the chance of a stray shot hitting Carrie. And that wasn’t a chance he was ready to take.
“I’m not going to repeat myself,” the assassin said. “Step—”
“It’s all over. Your boss has just been arrested. The girl never knew any secrets—it was her boss that betrayed yours. We’ve got the police outside right now. Do you really want to throw your life away on a job that had the wrong target all along?”
“Shut the fuck up!” the hitman yelled.
Darrell could feel Carrie trembling next to him. Her fear was almost overwhelming. But at the same time, he could feel her steely resolve through the bond—that core of strength at the heart of her that had made her go through life alone without a complaint, working twice as hard as most to achieve her modest little dreams.
And right now, Carrie proved her sensibleness once more. Faced with an assassin, she remained very still and silent, staying in cover behind Darrell without even the slightest twitch that might set the assassin off.
Let me try to talk him out of this, Darrell sent desperately through the bond. And if it goes wrong, shift immediately and run. He won’t find a cat in a hayloft.
Carrie didn’t try to argue. Instead, all that came back through the bond was her fierce reassurance, and a nudge for him to shift as well if the assassin attacked.
“You’re fucking lying,” the hitman said, although his voice had grown audibly unsettled.
Darrell shook his head. “Her boss is the one who embezzled. He set Carrie up as a convenient scapegoat to distract Costa and your boss for a day or two, while he went off to celebrate his daughter’s wedding on a cruise. Only he took the first opportunity to get out of there. He and his family left the country—and they took all the mob money. Meanwhile, your boss is currently being questioned by the police.”
“Liar,” the man growled again.
He hadn’t fired yet, which Darrell took as a good sign. Negotiating with an assassin wasn’t easy, even with his bear’s heightened senses. Half the time, a hitman would decide that talking was too much effort when just killing everyone would be the easiest way out.
But so far, this one hadn’t fired, and Darrell’s bear could smell his rising confusion and agitation.
“Look, if you walk out right now, you’ll either manage to escape, or you get off easy if the cops catch you,” Darrell offered. “Right now, you haven’t hurt anyone. And you won’t have your boss’s protection, because you never had the right target in the first place. Don’t believe me? Look it up.”
The man scoffed. “No fucking signal out here, asshole.”
Darrell bared his teeth in a grin that was more confident than he felt. “Not in the forest—but try your phone again here on the farm. They’ve even got WiFi. Satellite connection. The wonders of modern civilization.”
“Shut up. Just shut up,” the man growled.
“Password’s luckystar. One word,” Darrell said, staring him down without fear.
The hitman stared back. With the black mask he was wearing, Darrell couldn’t read his face. But after a moment, the man slowly began to walk sideways, moving further into the stable while keeping the gun pointed at them.
“If you’re fucking lying to me, you’ll be the first one to go,” the assassin hissed, even as he fumbled at a pocket with his left hand. A moment later, he’d pulled out his phone.
Darrell watched quietly as the man began to pull up information on it. The hand that held the gun didn’t tremble—but even so, for a long moment the man’s attention was divided between the screen and his targets.
Strike now, while he’s distracted, Darrell’s bear roared.
With difficulty, Darrell suppressed his bear’s anger.
Wait, he hissed back. Wait. He’s looking, which means we’ve got him.
The man had slowly moved into the center of the stable, keeping between them and the door that led into the yard. It was suspiciously silent outside now. There was still the smaller door at the back of the stable, through which the assassin had surprised them. It lead to paddocks and meadows, and the forest behind them. But with the gun on them, escape wasn’t a chance Darrell was ready to take—not yet.
“Motherfucker,” the hitman cursed after a long minute had passed. “Fuck! Fuck. I’m out of here.”
He inched back towards the door, keeping the gun on them. Darrell moved ever so slightly to keep between him and Carrie.
Don’t let him escape! He came to kill our mate! his bear roared in anger.
No. Let the others deal with him. Carrie’s safety is more important right now, Darrell sharply thought back.
This was the best possible outcome. Someone would catch the assassin sooner or later. It didn’t matter when—the only thing that mattered right now was to get Carrie unharmed out of this situation.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the assassin was still cursing under his breath. He’d almost made it back to the door when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a small, black shadow appeared from behind him.
Before Darrell even realized what was happening, the same pony that had tripped him earlier had barreled full speed into the hitman, its tiny head held low, eyes rolling with anger as it released a trumpet of triumph.
The assassin went down with a shout of surprise. His gun was skidding away into the center of the stable.
And in that millisecond, the odds had turned. At last, Darrell allowed his bear to break forth with all the bottled up protective rage that had been caged inside him.
Now, he sent to Carrie, even as he shifted into the powerful form of his bear.
Even as he took a jump forward, he was aware of Carrie lunging away from him—right at where the gun had come to rest.
And a heartbeat later, the assassin was helpless beneath him, pressed down by his large paws. Darrell’s claws were out as he roared his anger into the man’s terrified face.
Behind him, Carrie was clutching the gun. Darrell didn’t even need to turn his head to know. Her satisfaction came rushing through the bond in a glorious stream, mingled with her love and relief.
“We’ve got him!” she called out. “Don’t move. I’ve got your gun, and I’m going to shoot if you so much as twitch.”
“Get it off me, get it off me!” the assassin screamed, as if he hadn’t even heard he
r words. “It’s a fucking bear! Help! Help!”
Darrell roared again, fierce triumph filling him as the man whimpered at the sight of his fangs so close to his face.
Then the door banged open with a sudden crash, and Darrell heard the familiar voice of Chris coming to their rescue at last.
“Police! Don’t move!” Chris shouted.
Darrell allowed himself one final, satisfied growl right into the terrified face of the hitman.
Chapter Thirteen: Carrie
After all the formalities of the arrests had been dealt with, Carrie had gladly left Darrell with his clan mates while she went off to shower.
The hot water pouring down on her was exactly what she needed. She took a deep breath of air that smelled refreshingly like the zingy mint of the shower gel, running soapy hands all over her skin.
Together with the dust and horse-smell of the stable, it felt as if the hot water also washed away the fear that had made her heart pound. Little by little, she was able to relax.
It was still difficult to believe that all of this was real—not the shifter part, because that was truly a part of her. She couldn’t get rid of it again even if she’d wanted.
You better not, her cat said in her head, accompanied by an image of playfully unsheathed claws.
Carrie laughed softly.
Never, she reassured her inner animal. Never. This is who I’m meant to be.
She stepped from the shower at last, wrapping herself in a fluffy, white towel.
But I can’t believe my boss turned out to be a front for the mob. I guess I always knew he was an asshole—but at least the pay was okay. Even though I more than deserved that raise...
When she was finished with dressing herself, Darrell met her at the door. The courtyard behind him was empty—even the police cars had finally left.
Then Carrie’s eyes fell onto a man who slowly moved into view from behind the cover of Darrell’s body.
“You’re still here,” she heard herself say, her heart suddenly beating fast again.
My father.
It was still weird to think that. For most of her childhood, she’d dreamed that one day, her real family would show up, and she’d be told that she was a lost princess, or that she’d been swapped at birth by accident.
