“Fated mate, my ass. She’s just a hot, curvy girl, and we’re bears with powerful urges…
nothing more.”
Safe with Her Bears
A Yellowstone Pack Novel
Madeline Hill
Copyright © 2019 by Madeline Hill
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book was previously published under a different title before being revised and edited.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Zariah’s Story: August 2019
About Madeline Hill
Also by Madeline Hill
1
Jules rested her forearm lazily on the steering wheel. The highway formed a long, straight stretch, so she allowed herself a moment to really look around and savor the beauty of the wilderness surrounding her. The gray pavement of the road was flanked on both sides by tall pines with skinny trunks. Dense forest stretched on for miles, and far in the distance, jagged snow-capped mountains jutted into the vibrant blue sky.
No matter how many times she’d experienced it, Yellowstone still took her breath away. She knew she had no business taking a detour today, but she couldn’t resist the urge. Instead of taking the interstate the whole way to Salt Lake City, on a whim she had taken an exit in Bozeman, opting for the scenic route that would take her through West Yellowstone at the border of Montana and Wyoming. The move would add an extra three hours according to her GPS, but it didn’t matter.
Nick wasn’t expecting her until tomorrow, anyway.
The road today was perfect—she’d passed only a few other cars for hours. Normally she’d get stuck behind a long line of RVs plodding along at a snail’s pace. But today there was nothing but empty pavement ahead of her.
The R&B song playing on her satellite radio faded out and was replaced by the infectious beat of a hip-hop chart-topper. She turned the volume up and bobbed her head, the bass rattling the car.
Jules smiled. It was almost over. This was her last trip. Everything felt perfect, and for the first time in a long time, she actually felt at ease and even sensed an inkling of that long-forgotten feeling—a mix of elation, giddiness, relief, and hope for the future. Happiness.
Then something caught her eye. The flicker of blue and red lights in her rearview mirror.
Shit.
Jules froze. Her chest seized and a wave of nausea passed over her from head to toe. Hand shaking, she reached over and turned the volume all the way down, the sound of the shrieking siren filling her ears.
Her heart pounded.
She wondered what she’d done wrong. She wasn’t speeding. Her tags were up to date.
She forced herself to take a deep breath. Okay, Jules, relax. It’ll be okay.
Moving at a crawl now, glanced at the patrol car, and the cop gestured for her to pull over.
She eased her way onto the right shoulder, then rolled her window down and waited in agony as each second ticked by.
A bald, heavy-set cop emerged from the patrol car and took his time sauntering to her window. He leaned down and peered into the car.
“Is there a problem, officer?” she asked, her voice weak.
Apart from the trunk full of drugs I’m hauling? she thought.
He grunted. “Turn your engine off, please.”
Jules reluctantly followed his orders.
“Keys out of the ignition.”
Shit, shit, shit.
“License and registration,” he said, his voice flat.
Jules leaned over to the purse in the passenger side and fished out her license, then retrieved the registration from the glove box. Her hands were shaking as she handed over the documents.
“Is something wrong?” the cop asked.
“W-wrong? No, sir. I mean. Is there something wrong? Was I speeding? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. I always stick to the speed limit. If you think I was speeding, you made a mistake.”
The cop stared at her, unimpressed. He chewed on his bottom lip. “One of your brake lights is out. Did you know that?”
“Brake lights. No, sir, I didn’t know.”
“You might wanna get that fixed.”
Jules rolled her eyes. “Is that what you stopped me for? Really?”
She regretted the words immediately. Fuck, Jules, you idiot.
The cop just stared with a blank expression. “Ma’am, I’m just doing my job. There’s no need to get short with me.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Jules took another deep breath, her chest shuddering as she inhaled. The cop studied her, his face expressionless. He chewed his bottom lip some more.
“Ma’am, you seem awfully nervous.”
“I just, I’ve never been pulled over before. I guess it’s a little nerve-wracking. I mean, if you check, you’ll see I don’t have any record at all.”
“Any record?” his voice grew suspicious. “Record of what?”
‘Record of what’? Why did cops always have to be so suspicious? She pushed the thought out of her head. “Of speeding. Or traffic violations. Or anything for that matter. I’m clean as a whistle.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” he replied. He rubbed his whiskered chin for a moment and seemed to be mulling over something. Finally, he said, “Ma’am, I’m gonna need you to step out of the vehicle.”
Jules’s heart rattled in her chest like a jackhammer. “Excuse me? Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
“Yeah, but why? What did I do wrong?”
“If you didn’t do anything wrong, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
Jules snorted disdainfully.
The cop crossed his arms. “Ma’am, I’m gettin’ awfully tired of your attitude. Step out of the vehicle right now.”
No.
“Ma’am, I told you to—”
Jules grabbed the keys on her lap and jammed them into the ignition. She jerked it into drive and slammed on the gas pedal, whipping straight ahead. The engine roared as the tires gripped the pavement, propelling the car forward. Glancing into the rearview mirror, she saw the cop had been knocked on his ass. He was scrambling to his feet when she looked away. She gripped the steering wheel tight, sweat pouring down her forehead.
This cop was old and fat. She hoped and prayed she’d be able to elude him. Surely he’d radio for backup, but she hoped they were far enough in the middle of nowhere that it would take a while.
She sped down the highway, trees and cliffs and boulders whipping past so quickly they became nothing but a dazzling blur. Adrenaline
coursed through her veins. She felt like she’d been shocked out of a waking dream, and now she was experiencing reality for the first time. Crystal clear, sobering reality.
Behind her, the patrol car finally appeared from around the bend, accelerating at a disconcerting rate. Jules watched in disbelief as the car effortlessly caught up with her. She pressed harder on the gas, desperate not to lose control on one of the sharp bends. For now, they were on a straight stretch. The cop veered into the opposite lane and sped up until the two vehicles were neck and neck. Jules glanced over at the cop, who was red in the face, yelling and gesturing.
You fucked up, Jules. You seriously fucked up.
She looked ahead. There was a sharp bend coming. She would have to slow down drastically to make that turn safely. Instead, she pressed harder on the gas, coaxing as much speed out of her little car as possible. They were nearly at the bend now. There was only one option left, and she hoped the cop would take the bait.
She slammed hard on the brakes, her body lurching forward, nearly hitting her forehead on the steering wheel. Hot smoke swirled as the tires screamed against the asphalt. Jules glanced up but the patrol car was gone.
She looked over to her right. There was a grassy embankment, followed by a pine forest. She jerked the steering wheel right and drove down the embankment, car clunking as it made its way down. She drove over dirt and rocks into the forest. Fortunately the trees were spaced far enough apart, with little undergrowth, that it was possible to make it a few hundred yards before the terrain became impassable.
The car rolled to a stop. She pulled the keys out of the engine and leaned forward, resting her sweaty forehead on the steering wheel.
What the hell do I do now?
She realized she didn’t have time to come up with some master plan. That cop, assuming he didn’t just crash, would be on her ass in a second. If not him, others would be showing up soon. She hoped the tires hadn’t made deep tracks in the grass where she drove off the road, but they probably did. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out.
She had to move.
She grabbed her purse, a half-empty water bottle, and a bag of peanuts she’d picked up at a gas station a few hours earlier, then got out of the car. She looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the road from here, nor hear anything. No sirens. She gripped her cell phone and swiped it on, pulling up Nick’s name. Her fingers trembled as she mashed the keys. “Hwy 191, N of West Yellowstone town. Running. Sorry.”
The phone blipped as she hit send. She flipped the phone over and slid the case off, ripped the battery out and grabbed the SIM card. It took her a moment to find a heavy rock to smash it with, then she did the same to the cell phone. Did that actually work? She didn’t know, but it was worth a shot.
Her eyes lingered on the trunk of her car. She couldn’t just leave the stash in there. But the bricks were heavy, she couldn’t carry them all, and how would she get rid of them? Plus, the cops might be right on her tail. She didn’t have time.
If they caught her, she was going to jail either way. She had to leave them.
Her decision was further cemented when she heard the faint but unmistakable wail of sirens in the distance. She turned away from the car and broke into a run.
After a moment, she doubled back and ran for the road she’d come from. If that cop hadn’t made it back yet, she could cross to the other side and head in the other direction. She hoped her pursuers would head out from there. Once they started a proper search they’d study her tracks and figure out what she’d done. But by then, with any luck, Jules would be long gone.
2
Carter glared down at the stack of paperwork in front of him on the desk. He picked up his pen and twirled it between his fingers for a moment before latching on with a grip so tight that the pen snapped in two. Blue ink ran over his palm. He felt a plume of rage coiling inside of him. A deep, low growl escaped his throat.
“You’re snarling again, Carter,” Max said, deadpan. He was sitting at the desk across from Carter’s, eyes focused on his own paperwork, square plastic-rimmed glasses propped on the bridge of his nose.
“Did you see what just happened?”
Max made several marks on his paper before bothering to look up. He grinned when he saw the sight.
“Yeah, fuck off,” Carter growled. He stood and lumbered over to the office bathroom, yanking a stack of brown paper towels out of the dispenser. He tried to wipe the ink off, but it had already tattooed itself on his skin. He threw the paper towels in anger before turning on the faucet as hot as it would go and scrubbing his hands with the cheap office soap.
“You’re gonna have to get used to this, Carter,” Max chimed in. “It’s part of the job.”
“Part of the job, my ass,” Carter huffed. The ink wouldn’t budge.
“It’s not that bad,” Max continued. “It’s all fairly straightforward. If you can just learn to buckle down and do it, you’ll be back outdoors in no time.”
Carter gave up. He turned the faucet off and wiped his hands on his pants, returning to the office and leaving the mess of paper towels to pick up later. “I didn’t get this job to sit at a desk pushing paper for hours every day.”
“I know,” Max answered simply. “Neither did I. But we have to do it.”
Carter collapsed in his office chair with a loud grunt. The chair creaked in protest at his imposing weight. “How are you so comfortable with this shit, anyway?”
“What do you mean?” Max didn’t look up. His wrist flicked as he continued to fill out paperwork.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess you were a damned human,” Carter said with a scowl. “Hell, you don’t even wear a beard anymore.”
Max smirked. “I thought I’d try a new look.”
Carter studied Max. It was jarring seeing him with a clean-shaven face. It didn’t seem right. He was big, hulking, his muscles bulging under his ranger uniform. His face was wide-set, with a strong, sharp jaw. He had the frame of a bear, for sure. But his black hair was cut short, swept back, tucked neatly behind his ears, his tan face now devoid of even a shadow of stubble. He looked... goddamn strait-laced.
“I don’t like it,” Carter grunted, crossing his thick arms in disdain.
“Yeah, well, what else is new?”
“I tell you what,” Carter ventured. “You finish my paperwork when you’re done with yours. And I’ll—”
He paused. He couldn’t think of anything.
“You’ll what?” Max asked, his dark eyes amused.
“I’ll let you know when I think of it.”
Max smirked and went back to his paperwork.
Carter sighed. His bear was caged. The office felt claustrophobic and oppressive with its fluorescent lights and stale air. He wanted nothing more than to bust out of this office into the great outdoors and feel the breeze through his fur as he padded through the forest. He wanted to sink his teeth into a fat pink salmon fresh out of the stream. He wanted his roar to echo throughout Yellowstone’s canyons.
The whole reason they’d taken these forest ranger jobs was to be outside, to straddle the line between living as a human and living as a bear. Their home clan lived here in these woods. It was perfect. After six years of living in human civilization, working the streets as city cops down in Los Angeles, Carter was excited to be back on his home turf with a job that let him enjoy the benefits of both his human and his bear side.
Yet here they were, stuck inside doing paperwork yet again.
Carter took a deep breath, filling his lungs with recycled office air.
Yuck.
He needed to get outside as soon as possible. He grabbed another pen and furrowed his brows as he tried to focus on the stack of never-ending paperwork.
Just then, Chief Ranger Burke popped his head in. “Heads up, boys.”
Carter and Max glanced at their boss. Burke entered carrying a piece of paper. He was rail thin, late 40s, without even a wisp of hair on his head. He looked like a twig
compared to the two grizzlies who worked for him.
“I just got a call from state police,” Burke said. “We’ve got a fugitive on our hands.”
A surge of excitement coursed through Carter’s body like a bolt of lightning. He straightened in his chair, listening attentively.
“Just after 1 this afternoon, there was a high-speed chase on Highway 191, twelve miles north of West Yellowstone. The suspect drove off road into park territory and abandoned the car.”
“The cops lost track of him?” Max asked.
“Her,” Burke corrected. He handed the paper over.
Max’s eyes widened as he stared at the paper, piquing Carter’s curiosity. He bolted up from his chair, walked to Max’s desk, and leaned down to take a look at it. It was a printed photo of a beautiful young woman, early twenties, with long, raven-black hair, emerald green eyes, and a smooth, creamy complexion. She was grinning ear to ear, her arm around someone who had been cut out of the photo. She wore a pink tank top that showed off ample cleavage and denim shorts. She was deliciously voluptuous, with curves to die for. Carter growled as he felt a stirring of carnal hunger in his loins.
Max glared at him.
“Damn, she’s beautiful,” Carter murmured. “You’re telling us that she’s the fugitive?”
“Yup.” Burke stroked the back of his neck, one eyebrow arched in amusement. “She ditched her car. Cops found a hundred pounds of methamphetamine in her trunk.”
Carter shook his head and whistled. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
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