by Hattie Hunt
Barn picked up his pencil and pointed it at Mason, lips formed around a word that he didn’t speak. “You will have to tell me about it sometime.”
“Over a drink. I owe you for fixing me up.”
“Only if it’s coffee.”
Mason glanced pointedly at his bandaged ankle. “It is probably best if it’s coffee.”
Barn chuckled and stood up. “One thing I will say about shifters. They are tight knit within their clans. The bears especially, though I think that comes from their tendency to be over-emotional about things. Most of them are still good people, and they look after their own. Think of it like having an over-sized extended family.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Don’t hold it against them. Once they get to know you, they soften up a little bit.” Barn handed Mason the crutches. “As long as you aren’t the one throwing the punches.”
“Right.”
Barn shrugged and opened the back door. “Use the crutches for a few hours at least. Longer if you need. And do me a favor. Bring them back when you’re through. I only have the one set.”
32
The lights were on in the house when Mason pulled up. He couldn’t remember if he’d turned them off or not. As he pulled into his parking spot, he glanced down at the passenger seat for his phone, remembering belatedly that he had left it in the kitchen.
Frowning, Mason opened the door and extracted the crutches. They were too tall to lever himself out of the car with, and he put pressure on his broken foot as he stood up, sucking in a sharp breath. The damn thing was still tender. Shoving the door shut with his butt, Mason hobbled his way to the door.
Bones shot forward with a hiss as Mason raised his key to the lock. He froze, listening. Someone was inside. With a sigh, Mason leaned his head on the door. He didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever that was. Getting back in the car and driving away seemed like a decent idea. Just drive until his foot was healed enough to walk. He could do that.
The hiss turned growl shifted to a gentle purr, and Mason raised an eyebrow.
Emma?
The porcupine nodded.
Shit. What the hell was she doing in his house? He had told her not to come. Then there was the matter of how she had gotten in in the first place. Mason couldn’t picture her breaking in. He must have left the door unlocked.
The shuffling inside stopped. She knew he was there.
With a deep breath, he opened the door. Emma stood in the kitchen, broom in hand. Completely naked except for one of his button-down shirts. Just like in the fucking movies.
Mason hopped his way to the couch with the crutches and dropped his keys on the coffee table, pointedly avoiding her. Not letting himself feel the way the shirt clung to her curves, how the buttons strained against her chest.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mason, I am so sorry.” Emma propped the broom against the counter and took a couple steps toward him, hands outstretched.
“I’m fine. You should go.”
“I—” her hands fell to her sides, fingers playing with the hem of the shirt where it fell over her hips. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“But you are on crutches.”
“A bear broke my ankle. Barn says I should be fine by tomorrow.”
“Barn.”
“I tried for Leslie, but he answered the door.”
Emma frowned. “You shouldn’t have picked a fight with the bears.”
“Maybe they picked a fight with me.” Mason fell back onto the couch and tossed his crutches to the side.
“You’re mad at me.”
Nope. “Not at you.”
Emma shook her head. “You should be.”
“I’m the idiot. Two weeks in a new town and I fell in love with a fucking bear.” Mason clenched his eyes shut. He wasn’t thinking straight. Why had he said that out loud? He hadn’t even thought it. Not in so many words.
“You aren’t an idiot.” Emma closed the distance between them. Mason looked away, refusing to meet her eyes, embarrassment burning on the back of his neck.
“Obviously I am. You should go.”
“Mason.” She hovered at the edge of the coffee table, fire in her eyes.
Shit she was gorgeous. “Look. I’m obviously causing problems in your clan. You are alpha. You have responsibilities. Taking care of an ignorant porcupine isn’t one of them.”
Mason felt trapped, unable to get off the couch without putting pressure on his foot. Crutches out of reach. Emma’s body so close. Despite himself, need rose in his loins.
“Mason, I need you. I want to be with you. I don’t care about everything else.” Emma stepped forward, straddling his legs and lowering herself into his lap.
Mason sucked in a breath. This was cruel. She needed to leave. He needed her to leave. “You told me you couldn’t be with me a few hours ago. I can’t do this, Emma.”
“I was wrong.”
She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him in. Mason gripped the edge of the couch to keep from wrapping his own around her. He could taste her. Smell her. Spun sugar and lavender. His sweat pants were barely a barrier between him and her bare flesh, and she rolled her hips against him.
Mason pulled back, shaking his head. “Emma, no.”
Why? He needed to remind himself. She needed a break. He was a rebound. A bear couldn’t be with a porcupine. Mason repeated the list over and over. Still, his body betrayed him. She fit so perfectly on top of him.
“Why?”
Mason’s voice came out in a groan. “I won’t be a rebound.”
“Don’t listen to Jordan.”
“Then what am I, Emma?”
She stopped grinding against him, her hands pulling back to rest on his chest. The sleeves of his shirt were too long for her, and her fingers barely poked out from under the fabric.
Mason watched the fire die in her eyes. He had found the question that she couldn’t answer. The question that he needed answered before he would let himself give in to her. “That’s what I thought.”
“Please, Mason. Let’s talk about this.”
“There is nothing to talk about.” He pushed against her hips with his hands. He needed her to get off his lap.
“Why can’t I just be with you?” Her voiced pleaded with him.
“For the same reason that I got the shit kicked out of me by three bears in your own clan.” Mason leaned to the side, reaching for the closest of the crutches. Finally, Emma removed herself from him. With the release of pressure, his fingertips brushed over the frame and he stretched to pull it towards him.
Emma reached down and picked it up. He was winning. Barely. “I’m really sorry, Mason.”
“All you have to do is tell me where we stand. But you don’t know where that is. And I can’t be with you until you figure it out.” Mason positioned the crutches under his arms and swung himself to the back door, which was unlocked.
“Things are complicated.”
“So you keep saying.” He opened the door and backed up to the wall. “I can handle complicated. I grew up in the city as a porcupine without a clan and two parents who suppressed their spirit animals. Shit don’t get much more complicated than that.”
“But you don’t understand. It’s… different.”
Mason banged the back of his head into the wall. “Then make me understand. Explain it all to me. Every single bit.”
Emma stopped in front of him and pulled off the shirt. He knew she had to do it if she was going to shift, but damn seeing her like that was the last thing he needed. Why couldn’t she just tell him? Fill him in? It shouldn’t be that hard. That was all it would take. One minute of admission and he would take her right there in the hallway, broken foot or no.
But Emma handed him the shirt, which he had to drape over the strut of his crutch. She leaned up, kissed him on the cheek and walked out the door. He watched her put her phone on the ground and then explode into a grizzly bear. Who pick
ed up the phone in his mouth and disappeared into the trees behind Mason’s house.
The walls rattled when Mason slammed the door. He turned back to the kitchen, realizing for the first time that Emma had been cleaning up the casserole when he came home. The dinner they were supposed to have together before she told him she needed a break.
It was ironic, that. Maybe she really meant it. She had made a mistake. Emma had come there to clean up the pieces. Literally. Mason almost laughed out loud.
Perhaps he should have just given in to her. Lord knew he hadn’t had many women in his life and she was—too good to be true. There it was. The truth of the matter. If something was too good to be true, it couldn’t be real.
Mason balanced on one foot and leaned the crutches against the counter, picking up the broom. She had piled the parts of the casserole dish into a pile. A grocery sack full of soiled paper towels sat next to it. The casserole. He still needed to mop, but Emma had managed to clear up most of the mess by the time he returned.
He frowned at the broken pieces, and then swept them into the dust pan. Mason’s foot ached, accompanied now by the unsatisfied need burning in his groin. And the dull pang in his heart. Had he done the right thing? Logic said yes. She had walked away from him. That was the problem with logic though. Just because it was right didn’t mean it was easy. Or what he wanted.
33
Emma let Mal lead the way through the trees. She didn’t care where they went, really. Nowhere felt right. Nowhere felt like home. Maybe that was the problem.
When she lived with Jordan, as screwed up as everything was, it was still home. Now, she had the cabin, but it wasn’t really hers. It had always belonged to her and her brothers. She didn’t feel right claiming it for herself. Even if the rest of them had moved on with their lives.
Brett had Juliet. Joe had Ripley. Who did Emma have? A clan of bears that were more like Cheryl than she had ever realized. It shouldn’t have surprised her, really. Cheryl had been alpha for over a decade. Decades, even. Her out of the picture wasn’t going to change things overnight. It would be naïve of Emma to think that. Even with Jordan. She really had thought he was different. That he understood.
Maybe he did understand more than she gave him credit for. Sure, he was being a complete and utter ass at the moment, but he hadn’t really been wrong. And now he could be an alpha. She still couldn’t believe what she had felt in his spirit. Alpha.
Do you think he could do it, Mal?
Mal’s pace slowed. He had taken them to the river. Generally, they stayed clear of the area, but it was after dark. Mal liked the river. He didn’t answer right away, ambling along the bank to a cluster of boulders. Grunting, he climbed to the top of the middle one and lay down, sprawling out with his nose to the river. He even made sure not to drop the phone into the water when he set it down.
Jordan? He is a good man. And his spirit is strong. Clear minded. More-so than Jordan is, a lot of the time.
I am not sure that is super helpful. His spirit isn’t the one that would be leading the clan.
Mal’s ears pulled back. We lead the clan.
Do we? Really?
Mal didn’t answer. Emma pushed their paw into the river, letting the water flow over their claws. Too human of an action for a bear. But no one was watching.
Mal. Do you really hate Mason and his porcupine?
No. He said it without hesitation. They’re learning quickly. And they are fresh. Untainted.
Free.
Mal nodded, then tilted his head to the side. I don’t know many spirits that would take on a pack of three bears single handed. The porcupine is untrained, yes. But he is strong. And he has potential. I think I could get to like the creature. If I had to.
A piece of grass caught on their claw, and Emma raised it up, studied it for a second, and shook it off into the water. She sighed as it floated away.
Do you think I am wrong to want Mason?
Do you want Mason? Or the freedom that comes with Mason?
Emma frowned. The million-dollar question. What did she want? Could she even make that decision on such a whim? With everything so messed up? The clan. Zander. Jordan. Mason.
She should be careful. Cautious. Yet everything inside her told her to cling to Mason. He made her feel. Were alphas allowed to feel? To want?
Can I want both?
Want or have?
You are being seriously unhelpful.
Am I?
Emma rolled her eyes. Yes. Answering ever question with a question was unhelpful. Is it giving up to say I don’t want to be alpha? There it was. The first time she had voiced it. The real question. Emma Elliot was not a quitter. She never had been. She didn’t want to be one.
Mal didn’t respond. Because he was surprised by the admission? Or because she wouldn’t like his answer. He wasn’t typically one to avoid the truth of things. He sat up onto his haunches, nose raised to the air.
We aren’t far from Chuck.
What does that have to do with anything?
You are different when you are with Mason. More carefree. Happier. I want you to be happy, and I don’t think you have to give up to be happy.
Emma pulled back, letting Mal take over again. If you say so.
The bear lumbered to his feet, sniffing loudly, ears perked up. Emma let her thoughts meld with his, to smell what he could smell, hear what he could hear. Blood, soft footfalls. A howl of alert. When Mal had said they were close to Chuck, he wasn’t kidding. The regional alpha must be on the hunt.
Emma didn’t know if she was ready for this.
You are.
Mal let out a growl, announcing their presence even though Chuck had probably smelled them long before they had smelled him.
The alpha barked once, a warning.
Then a deer burst through the brush in front of them, chased by a small silver wolf. The deer had been wounded and found itself suddenly trapped by two wolves and a bear. The animal stopped, head jerking back and forth. Just as it leapt forward, the chasing wolf attacked, teeth tearing into the deer’s neck. It squealed and then tumbled to the ground. Dead.
The young wolf looked up, noticing the bear for the first time. It skirted around its prize, teeth barred as Mal stepped forward. An older wolf approached from the other side with a yip at the pup. The silver wolf backed down, hackles falling.
Chuck approached the deer, inspecting the kill with his nose and then licking the pup on the ear. Then he looked at Mal and jerked his nose to the woods back in the direction he and Emma had come from. Mal bowed his head, and backed up, leaving a path through the brush for the alpha wolf to follow. He didn’t stop until they were back at the rocks.
The black wolf shifted first, giving way to the fit, muscled form of Chuck de Luca. He stepped up onto one of the rocks and looked back at Mal and Emma. Mal nodded once and receded, golden fur and bear features retracting into Emma’s skin until she was fully human once again.
“I didn’t expect to find you out here.” Chuck said, clasping his hands behind his back. He looked out over the river, appraising the view. Emma stepped up beside him and mimicked his posture.
“Mal and I needed some air.”
“And have things become clearer?”
Emma shrugged. “Not really.” She looked over at Chuck. “How is Zander doing?”
“The Sisterhood is still holding him. They probably will for another week or so. At least until the mundanes have been dealt with and we’re sure he’s clean. You should visit him.”
Giving up on the formal stance, Emma sat down on the rock facing the river and pulled her knees up to her chin. “I am not sure what to say to him. I let him down.”
“And yet he feels like he is the one who let you down.”
That didn’t make Emma feel any better.
“But that isn’t why you sought me out, is it?”
Emma shook her head. “No.”
Chuck sat down beside her. “There is still unrest in your clan.”
>
Emma closed her eyes. “Jordan’s free of Cheryl.”
“Really. So soon?”
“I think he really wants the clan.”
“I wondered if that would happen.”
Emma gave him a look.
“You needed to see it for yourself.”
“Thanks.” Sighing, Emma dropped her feet over the edge of the rock into the water. It rushed over her toes, cold and refreshing, sending goosebumps up her legs and down her arms. Chuck didn’t speak, and Emma knew he was waiting for her to bring up the reason she had sought him out.
The thing was, she hadn’t been the one to seek him out. Mal had. She just hadn’t disagreed with it.
Stop hedging.
I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.
You can’t trust anybody before you trust yourself. What does your heart say?
Mal, tell me what to do.
That is not my job.
“Emma?”
She could feel Chuck watching her. “I was just talking to Mal.”
“I know.” A chorus of howls sounded on the night air and Chuck looked over his shoulder.
Emma was running out of time. Mal pushed forward, wrapping her in his presence. He trusted her. She knew he did.
“I want to step down from alpha.”
Chuck cocked his head to the side. Hadn’t that been what he was expecting?
“I want to leave the Elliot clan.”
He nodded, lips pursed. “And what will you do when you leave?”
Emma hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Who will replace you?”
That one was easy. “Jordan. If you think he can handle it.”
Chuck shook his head. “That is not my decision to make.”
Emma frowned. “The clan will follow him. They have already… I haven’t been around as much as I should. They are already turning to him for alpha situations. He is well liked, and his spirit animal is strong.”
“Will you challenge him?”
“No.”
“Even if you disagree with his choices?”
“Not if I’m separated from the clan. Cheryl needed to go. I was the only one that could do it. Who would do it. But I think that is all that I was meant to do. I am not supposed to lead a clan of bears. Look at my brothers. One kicked out of the clan and in love with a padfoot. The other, barely cured from rabies and not interested in clan politics. And me?” She laughed in exasperation. “I set myself up for everything that has happened.” Raking her hands through her hair, Emma looked up at the sky. “I thought that being alpha would be enough. That everything would just suddenly be better. But we are Elliots. Steeped in tradition and bigotry.”
