Stolen Mate: A Shifting Destinies Bear Shifter Romance (Shifters of Bear's Den Book 5)

by Cecilia Lane

  He’d fucked up with the family shit. He went too hard on her when she needed soft. He saw the assholes clear as day. They weren’t any different from his birth clan, and he bore the scars to remember them by. He wouldn’t let them leave any permanent reminders for Everly.

  But that was the problem. She wasn’t ready to see them truthfully. They still had their hooks in her, still pushed at all the control buttons installed from her birth, laid out a spread of guilt to entice her back into their spiny embrace. It was frustrating to admit, even more frustrating to see, but that was his reality. He had to pick out one hook at a time and let her heal between. She was in rehab, basically.

  By the Broken, he’d been as mistrusting during his early years away from his family. Hand to heart, he thought Callum and Cole were going to kill him the night they hauled his drunk ass out of The Roost. They’d been patient with him and slowly turned him from feral mess into someone who could sweep his shit under the rug.

  Even Cole confirmed what he suspected. Sawyer didn’t know all the details of Rylee’s life before she came to Bearden and he’d never ask outright, but the woman had her own troubles. She wasn’t as prone to panic attacks as she’d been in the first few weeks in the enclave, and he attributed that to finding solid support in her mate.

  “Give her time,” Cole told him when he finally got around to asking how to help Everly find herself. “That’s the only way to do this. You have to walk a knife’s edge, and you’re already at a disadvantage for bringing her here the way you did. If you push too much, too fast, she’ll shut down. If you stay too far back and don’t challenge her, she won’t change.”

  So he backed off. No pushing, no wishing ill on her pride. He barely even spoke to her outside the brief conversations about what food to eat or if she happened to see a shirt of his during her frenzied cleaning of his home.

  In the days that followed, little by little, the silence bothered her. He wanted her curious and needing to talk. She needed to show interest before he yanked out another hook.

  The wait paid off. After three days of quiet and distance, Everly asked if he minded that she accompany Rylee when she met her mate for lunch. Then she looked at him with fire in her eyes and, in a small voice, asked if he’d want to go with them.

  Hours spent at the clinic were doing her good. She got out of the cabin and put herself to work. Sawyer hoped connecting with the women needing her services would convince her to stay. Making friends with Rylee and, he begrudgingly admitted, Becca, might get Everly over her ridiculous notion that only another cat shifter could be her mate.

  Sawyer glared at the clock and willed more time to have passed.

  Damn if he wasn’t feeling just as on edge. His bear tore him apart every time he caught the scent of her uncertainty or anger or disappointment.

  Hudson dropped a bucket full of cleaning supplies next to him. “Missed a spot,” the man teased and wiped a finger down the freshly wiped window.

  “Fucker,” Sawyer growled under his breath and scrubbed at the smudge. He hated window duty because of shit like that. No one respected the man assigned to wiping away the impossible number of smears.

  But when there was no call to rescue them, the crew on shift had nothing else to do but clean their house from top to bottom.

  “That the tone you’re going to take with the man who cleaned the bathrooms? Animals, the lot of you.” Hudson folded his arms over his chest. “How’s it going with your new bride?”

  “At least you know where your mate is and where she’ll be in the morning. I can’t sleep half the night for fear she’s going to sneak out a window on me.” Sawyer balled up his rag and tossed it to the floor. He’d have to pick it up, sure, but with his bear almost constantly growling or clawing at him, he needed to let go of his frustration somehow.

  It was easy for the others. They got pissed, they got furry. He kept his shit so tightly wound that they’d all be asking questions about how he got pushed so far, so fast. Maybe he could pick at someone, pull some strings from the background, and find his way into a brawl that way.

  “I gotta say, man, you’re not the one I expected to find himself in this sort of mess. Gray, maybe. I could see him getting drunk in Vegas and finding his way to one of those all-night chapels.”

  Sawyer quirked an eyebrow at his friend. “Don’t give him any ideas. You know he’ll convince Meghan to do it. She’ll probably find a way to turn it into a publicity stunt in our favor, too.”

  Hudson let off a short laugh and got around to his true reason for seeking out Sawyer. “Will Everly care if you check in on Mara?” He rubbed a hand over the back of his head. “I need to clear it with Callum first, but—”

  “Clear what with Callum?”

  Speak of the devil.

  Hudson snapped to attention as the rest of the clan filed in from their cleaning duties. The straight spine and hands folded behind his back were drilled into Hudson. Only thing he missed was a salute to their alpha before snapping out his words in a concise request. “Chief, I wanted to know if I could get some more time off.”

  “Fuck off. You’re just doing this to avoid the fire inspections,” Nolan grumbled.

  “Am not. One of my old contacts caught a hit on Mara’s intel.” Hudson smirked and shot him the bird. “Not my fault she knows exactly when it’s needed the most.”

  No one liked the inspections. Keeping the town safe, that was great. Checking in with businesses to ensure they were up to code meant dealing with the business owners, and people were a bunch of bastards.

  Looks ranging from horror to red-hot anger made the rounds. “You just got back,” Cole said in an even tone.

  “I know. Frankly, it’s an old lead. If you need me to stick around and wait for something fresh, I will.”

  Callum cocked his head. “I have to be fair to the others, Hudson. We’re in the dry season. The volunteers are just that, and the boys pushing through the academy aren’t ready to join a crew. We’re low on those able to fill in for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it making a difference?”

  “For the number of assholes in the world? Not a bit. For Mara? Yes.” Hudson pressed his lips together and looked away from everyone else. Sawyer understood. He didn’t want the others prying into his business, either.

  That drive to help a mate was a bell newly struck in Sawyer. He could barely think beyond what he could do for Everly. Even Callum, the longest mated of them all, still looked after Leah with all the tenderness in the world. Instinct to provide ran as deep as the pain of disappointing.

  Sawyer shoved his bear to the back of his mind before the beast could weigh in. He got the fucking idea without needing a slew of images forced through his head.

  Hudson surprised him by offering up more nuggets of information. “She doesn’t care if this helps her get out earlier. She’s perfectly happy to rot away in that room until her sentence is complete. Hell, I think it’d probably make her feel better.

  “But she’s fucked up over helping hunters. She saved as much of her family as possible, but knowing she traded lives to do so is killing her every day. Taking out the ring she worked with helps. Tracking down the ones she handed over is even better. She’s almost happy on the days some are put down and worse when I come back without sending one of those fucks away.”

  “Well, if that isn’t the most beautifully crazed and murderous love, I don’t know what is,” Gray snarked.

  “What did you say?” Hudson demanded. His military-grade pose slipped, and he entered the stance of a brawler ready to let loose.

  Fuck, yes. Sawyer was ready for a piece of that action.

  Gray raised his hands, smirk still hitching up his lips. “Hey, I was complimenting you. Not all of us know the perfect gift to give our mates. I mean, Meghan likes little notes left all over the damn place, but scalps are cool, too, I guess.”

  Hudson’s snarl kicked up a notch. “I’m not killing them, asshole. I know my limits.”
<
br />   The mailman poked his head through the door and interrupted the brewing fight. Callum took the few letters, the handful of magazines and flyers, and balanced a small package under the shifting stack.

  “All right, cut it out. Let’s get lunch going and start on the annual inspections. Hudson, I’ll have my answer for you later.” He tossed the pile to the table and turned to head toward his office.

  The sound burst in Sawyer’s ears before the blast registered in his brain. The mail went up in an angry orange burst, blowing outward and sending shards of pain into the arms he raised to cover his face.

  Ears ringing, Sawyer picked himself off the ground. His training put his feet on a path straight for the nearest fire extinguisher. The sprinklers rained down over the common room and doused the smoldering bits of paper.

  He pointed the nozzle at the center of the explosion. The scene was frozen in his mind. The wood of the table was charred dark. A chair was overturned. Blood ran down the arms and faces of nearly everyone.

  His heart pumped loudly in his ears, and his bear roared with fury to see Callum still off his feet.

  One flash, one loud bang, and the world shifted on its axis. Hurt feelings and giving each other shit were no longer the focus with their alpha injured. There was no room to think of anything else.

  “Call the clinic now! We’re heading over!” Cole shouted at one of the others over the blaring fire alarm. He thrust his arms under Callum’s and dragged him away from the last of the burning debris Sawyer had contained.

  Chapter 11

  Everly pulled off her gloves with a snap and disposed of them in the garbage. She made a few notes on her chart and then flashed a smile to her patient. “That’s it for today, Faith. I’d like to see you in your home for our next visit.”

  “Dr. Reed never offered anything outside of the clinic,” Faith grumbled. “That sounds like a dream come true.”

  Everly tried to keep her smug smile to herself. She wanted to stay on Dr. Reed’s good side. Talking ill of the man didn’t seem appropriate when he’d allowed her use of an exam room and equipment. Besides, she needed to keep him looped in with her patients when the time came for her to move on from Bearden.

  “House calls are what I’m used to,” she said. “Having a fixed office is strange for me.”

  “So Becca told me. I’ll go anywhere if it means I won’t have cold hands touching my belly,” Faith laughed.

  It was a common complaint about Dr. Reed. Every last woman she’d seen commented on the man’s chilling hands. All were happy to have someone kinder, too.

  Everly waved the woman out and made a note to follow up with the receptionist for a schedule of office and home visits. She’d do what she could for those who wanted to see her while she waited for her pride to move on.

  With Faith gone, Everly turned her attention to the stack of paperwork, charts, and recordings that Dr. Reed barely maintained. Frankly, she didn’t know why the man still practiced medicine. He seemed to have lost all bedside manner and made the barest of notations in his records. Charts were something new to Everly, having relied on a notebook she carried when she visited mothers and children in her pride, but the number of women requesting her services demanded a more organized approach. She was drowning in pages just to get caught up.

  Shouts jerked her attention away from her work. It wasn’t a singular disturbance in the waiting area or some blowup from Rylee’s group of humans on the other end of the building. The voices grew louder as a group shoved their way down the hallway.

  If she wasn’t mistaken, they were her—Sawyer’s—clan.

  Everly poked her head out the door, brows shooting together when she recognized the smell of smoke and blood. Inside, her cat prowled and hissed.

  Cole and Hudson carried Callum on a body board.

  Something was terribly, horribly wrong.

  She didn’t see Sawyer. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Dr. Reed rushed out of another room, threw his hands in the air in shock, then waved the bears toward an empty room. “His mate?” he demanded, shoving a stethoscope into his ears and placing the diaphragm against Callum’s chest.

  “She’s coming,” Cole said hurriedly as the group passed Everly. “She’s being picked up now.”

  She stood there, helpless and not knowing what to do. Surely someone should be called. Police. Or the others. The mates.

  Everly shot a glance in the other direction. The commotion drew more worried and concerned faces. At their front stood Rylee.

  “Cole looked okay,” Everly forced out. Her chest hurt. Her palms stung with a sudden pain, and she forced her fists to unclench.

  “They would have brought the others if they were hurt,” Rylee said in a carefully even tone. She used the motion of adjusting her glasses to break their gaze. Worry still pooled in her eyes when she glanced up.

  Then the door to the lobby barged open and Everly’s lungs worked again. Sawyer strode right for her.

  He didn’t ask for permission or wait for her acceptance. He shoved his hands in her hair and drew her hard against his chest.

  The uneasy growling of her cat faded to a purr of contentment and for a brief moment, Everly didn’t fight her panther. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him as tightly as he held her.

  He was safe. He smelled like worry and anger and blood and smoke, but he was alive and upright.

  “What happened?” she murmured against his chest. He shifted and something warm and wet brushed against her neck. Everly drew back suddenly. “You’re bleeding.”

  He wiped at his arm, then looked at the fresh blood. “I think there was silver in the blast,” he said in a thick voice.

  “You let us know if there’s any news,” she told Rylee, who still watched in silence. At the human’s nod, Everly grabbed Sawyer’s hand and led him through the door to her exam room.

  She wasn’t a surgeon, but she knew how to clean a wound. He was a shifter, anyway. He didn’t need much care aside from removing the foreign objects.

  “What happened?” she asked again after shoving him to sit on the table. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found what she needed: a small tray, large tweezers, and plenty of gauze and disinfectant.

  “We were attacked. Explosion in the mail, just like all those other bombings,” he growled.

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and ignored the chill that raised bumps up and down her arms. He could have been hurt. Badly.

  Worse than the bits of silver embedded in his skin.

  Her stomach turned as she eyed his arms. The insides of both were pocked with holes, like he’d thrown his arms in front of his face. Everly swallowed hard again and set to drawing out the shards.

  Too many monsters existed in the world. The explosion was harsh enough. Lacing it with shrapnel that kept a shifter from accessing their internal power was... well, she didn’t know the proper word. Fucking awful was all she could come up with.

  “You could have been there. Rylee, too. If you’d been just a little early, this could have happened to you.” A low growl rattled in Sawyer’s chest.

  “Hey.” Everly freed her hands and laid her palms on his cheeks. His eyes were bright and wild. She’d seen the look of worry edge into panic before with new mothers and difficult births. She didn’t give in to their emotions, and she wouldn’t let Sawyer run away with his. “Hey. We weren’t. We were here, and we’re okay.”

  Slowly, the growl subsided and his eyes slid closed. She didn’t want to break their connection. She needed to keep him calm. The urge was stronger than it’d been in his truck when he took her. Then, it’d been entirely about self-preservation.

  She wanted him to feel okay.

  She wanted him to be okay, too. She dragged her hands from his face, not letting go of him until she held his arms again. Only then did she lift one hand and grab up the tweezers. She could fix him.

  Bits of silver plinked into the tray. She made it through one arm an
d halfway through the other before he opened his eyes again.

  “When was your pride in Wichita? Did you ever go to Fort Dodge, Rapid City, or Casper?”

  “N-no...” Her eyebrows shot together again. Not those places exactly. She’d followed the news when she could. Attacks on shifters concerned everyone with an animal under their skin.

  But the pride had been to those places. They usually stayed an hour or so away, and never for any longer or shorter than other camps. They landed and left without incident, always a step ahead of any attack.

  His eyes bored into her. “Think about it, Everly. You’re stolen right out from under the nose of your alpha, and now this happens. Could they be behind it?”

  “No,” she said forcefully. She shook her head to clear the doubt from her mind. “No. They wouldn’t do this. Sure, they don’t like outsiders. But this? Hurting others?”

  “Because hurting each other is all they’ll do?”

  “Don’t talk about them like that,” she hissed. “They’re good people. Flawed, like everyone else. They care about each other.”

  Sawyer growled and moved quickly, wincing when he tore open his healing wounds. He pulled his shirt over his head and twisted to show her his back.

  Long scars ran up and down his flesh, the thickest layered over his spine. Her fingers twitched to trace the marks.

  “How?” Her stomach soured and bile rose on her tongue. Shifters barely scarred. Thin, pale lines on the most serious of injuries, usually. Even those tended to fade as the years went by. Their inner magic worked too well.

  Sawyer’s wounds were repeat injuries, and she doubted he’d been allowed to shift while he healed.

  “Good people?” He shoved his shirt back down and faced her again. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Families are just as capable of being awful as anyone else. I know firsthand. Yours is no different.”

  “You can’t know that,” she said in a small voice.

  “Why do you defend them? They were comfortable forcing you to mate someone you didn’t want. That’s not how caring families work. That’s not how mates work. Devotion wouldn’t allow for a second claiming.”