by Anna Lowe
“Simon!” She ran forward, then promptly retreated. Two fallen trees were burning in a vee-shape that pointed her way, forming a barrier.
Again, the movement — and a whimper.
Jess shoved at the end of one tree. It was hot but not burning at the end nearest her — yet. Even shoving with all her might didn’t budge it, though. She screamed her frustration into the night. “Simon!”
The breath it took to yell forced her to inhale, and she folded over, heaving and coughing, on the cusp of defeat.
The earth shook. A huge, bristling shape rocketed past her and thumped into the tree.
She looked through a curtain of tears, through the smoke. Simon.
He roared at the tree. Bulldozed it along the ground, sending crackling flames flying. He pushed it upslope and out of the way, only for it to roll back.
Simon bellowed. Braced his legs and pushed again. The tree shifted and rolled closer, but a tiny gap opened up.
Get her! Get her! Simon’s roar said.
Jess darted through the gap Simon barely held open. Jumped a line of fire that reached for her in midair, but she was a hair ahead. She stumbled to a stop and looked down. A round face darkened with soot and a pair of wide, beseeching eyes shone at her from a hollow.
“Laurel!” Jess yelped.
She snatched the child up and jumped back over the burning branch. Cut left, then right, around the only patch of ground free of flames, and leaped for her life. The tree thundered back into place, closing the gap behind her with an angry shower of sparks. Simon was nowhere to be seen, and a second log started rolling downhill behind her.
There was no time to think. No time to scream for Simon. All she could do was run for her life and the child’s. She ran in bounding kangaroo steps down the slope and prayed as she went.
The woods behind her hissed as the rolling log hit a tree and careened to a stop, shooting a hailstorm of sparks her way.
She didn’t stop to look. Just tugged the fabric of her shirt up, hid the little girl’s face in it, and ran on. Two thin hands clutched at her back; two thin legs bounced against her hip as she ran and ran and ran.
God, where was Simon? Where was he?
She raced across the bottom of the valley and up the other side, crying for Simon in her mind. Her lungs screamed for clean air as she pounded uphill, toward safety, and when she reached the top, she looked back, hugging the whimpering child.
“It will be okay. Everything will be okay,” she whispered. The words were as much for herself as for the child, because where was Simon? God, where was he?
A helicopter zipped overhead, circled, and cast a curtain of water across the hill. Flames and shadows danced everywhere. Any one of them could have been a bear or a man. Her eyes darted back and forth. God, where was Simon?
“Mommy…” the little girl cried.
Jess clutched her closer to her aching heart. “It will be okay…”
Her fist rose in a triumph a moment later. “Simon!”
There he was, running up the hill. Stark-naked, in human form, with his clothes bundled under his arm.
Jess hunched over the little girl and let herself shed a few tears before turning for the way out. Within a few strides, she was back to a jog with Simon racing up behind.
She didn’t want to look his way. Didn’t trust herself to. But her head turned of its own volition, and there he was. He’d gotten his jeans on but not the shirt, and his whole torso was streaked with soot. A black smudge ran down one cheek where he’d wiped away his sweat, and his hair stuck up wildly, like he’d been electrified.
Electrified. A little like she felt, seeing him alive.
“You good?” he murmured, as if they were simply hiking down a mountain and not racing for their lives.
She laughed, tiptoeing the fine line between control and hysteria, and ran on. Even without death nipping at her heels, she refused to slow down. The minute she did, she suspected, she’d be a nervous wreck. Nightmares tugged at her sleeve as she went, trying to remind her of another night, another fire.
“Mommy!”
“Laurel!”
Jess blinked as the girl was torn from her arms and voices sounded all around. In surprise. In joy. In relief.
“Are you all right?”
“Breathe easy…”
“Holy shit…”
A camera flashed. Booted feet rushed by.
“All right, now,” the female police officer said. “Everyone back up.”
She bent at the waist and heaved for all the air she’d done without on the run down. Hands tapped at her shoulders, but she ignored them all — except one. The one she knew, somehow just knew, was Simon’s. That hand she clutched at and refused to let go.
Chapter Twelve
Simon blinked into headlights. The whole parking lot was lit up like command central. Fire trucks had arrived on the scene, and people scurried back and forth. Some slapped him on the back, others urged him out of the way. He guided Jessica to one side of the bustle, keeping his eyes locked on her.
They’d done it. Jesus. They’d done it.
He held on to her hand, tipped his head back, and tried to pick the stars out of the sky beyond the glare of the lights. Slowly, his vision adjusted and the stars peeked out, one by one. He winced in anticipation of a faint note of scorn from the universe. For the past six months, it had been that way. He’d search for some sign, some hint of acceptance, but all he ever got was the cold shoulder.
But this time, the stars winked and smiled. He looked for Ursa Major, the Great Bear, the constellation that had always guided his clan. And damned if those stars weren’t shining on him the brightest of all. Practically patting him on the back for the long, hard road he’d traveled.
Jesus, they’d done it.
He’d done it.
He bent over Jess and ran a hand over her back, trying to soothe her the way she’d soothed the child. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.
Somehow, everything would.
Kyle came up and clamped a hand on Simon’s shoulder longer than he had to. “Good job, man. Good job.”
He managed a grin, then pointed at Jess.
The cop cracked into a huge smile and leaned closer. “The real hero, huh? Our women always are.”
Our women. The women of Twin Moon pack. Yeah, they had a reputation for that.
Simon straightened and subtly stepped between Kyle and Jess. She may have been a ward of Twin Moon pack, but first and foremost, she was part of his clan.
Mine, his bear chuffed with pride. Mine.
Kyle’s gaze danced between the two of them, and he promptly backed off. “I get it. Believe me, I get it.” He grinned. A full, happy grin the cop so rarely showed. “Now get her out of here and take her home.”
Home. Simon liked the sound of that. And the image that came with it: not the thick woods of Montana, but the apartment over the saloon. His saloon.
But there were grateful parents to meet and police questions to answer. Jess handled it like a champ, even though she had to be nearing the end of her rope. She patted the little girl, spoke to her again. So calm and soothing that his bear got all warm and fuzzy inside. She even flashed him a smile. We did it. We got her. She’s safe.
He soared like an eagle, just on the strength of that smile.
When he got Jess into the truck and drove off, his bear felt more settled than he had in years. But Jess… Her lips zipped, her shoulders sagged. Well, it had been a hell of a night. A hell of a morning, in fact, coming on two a.m.
She reached for his hand and hung on to it for most of the drive. Whenever he changed gears, she’d let go briefly, then clamp down over him again. Like he was a comfort to her. Like he made her feel safe. His bear had hummed with the sheer joy of it. Could have driven all the way to Mexico if she’d kept that up.
But when they’d gotten within sight of the saloon, Jess abruptly let go. They had scarcely pulled into the parking lot behind the saloon when she bolted
out of the truck. She slammed the door behind her, rushed into the building, and ran up the stairs.
Simon stayed in the driver’s seat for a good, long while, wondering what the hell was up. Was she worried about her sister seeing them together? About Soren being back? But the lights were all off; everyone else was still out.
He stared into the darkness for a while. Maybe it was him. Maybe he’d messed up again.
Inside. Find mate. Now! his bear demanded.
He slid out of the truck and closed the door slowly in case slamming it spooked her. Walked up the stairs to the apartment as quietly as he could, though there wasn’t much point on those creaky stairs. Headed down the hallway as far as his room and stopped by the plant in the corner. One of several plants she and Janna had set around the place. He sniffed. Listened. Sensed.
Home, his bear hummed. Home.
He paused there, processing that. Over the past few weeks, he’d never looked around much when he headed upstairs and went to bed. No thinking, not much looking around besides the longing sniffs in her direction. But now, he noticed. The plant, for starters. A big, leafy one, almost as tall as him. The braided rug on the floor. When had that gotten there?
Home. His bear nodded in satisfaction. Home.
Another plant stood in the far corner, and the two of them brought of a touch of the outdoors into the place. Maybe that’s what made his bear feel settled.
But not entirely settled, because he had to check on his mate.
Mate. His bear nodded firmly. Mine.
He tiptoed toward the corner where the hallway turned ninety degrees in the direction of Jessica’s room. A corner he’d turned a thousand times in dusky dreams but never in real life.
She needs us. Hurry up.
He stepped a little faster. Did she really need him? Did she really want him?
Yes, the scent of her, lingering in the hallway, said. Yes.
He paused at the next corner, having come nearly full circle around the apartment. Hesitated on the border to her forbidden realm. But when he heard her sniffling not far ahead, he just about ran the rest of the way. He threw a hand out to brake himself on the doorway and gulped.
“Jess?”
She stood facing the window, peering out toward the hills. Trembling. Knotting her fingers around each other and twisting them again and again.
“Jess, are you okay?”
“Fine,” she mumbled.
Not fine, his bear decided. Not fine at all.
He eased into the room, one careful step at a time, and when she didn’t protest, he went over to her. Slid an arm over her shoulders. She was as smudged and sooty as he was, but who cared? He reached his other arm around her front and waited for her to protest.
She leaned the slightest, tiniest bit his way, then crumpled into his arms, and he hugged her close. Hugged her with everything he had and mumbled and ran a hand over her hair.
“It’s okay,” he whispered as she cried softly, her tears soaking his shirt. “It’s okay.” His heart was bursting with conflicting emotions. Joy, from being able to touch her again. Distress, at witnessing his mate’s sorrow.
“It was just like that,” she mumbled again and again.
Just like what?
“Just like that night…”
For the first time in years, he dared reach his thoughts out toward hers. It used to be they could whisper to each other without uttering a sound. They could send thoughts into each other’s minds, until they’d both thrown up brick walls. But tonight…maybe…
He reached his mind toward hers and winced at what he saw. A forest at night, aflame.
“It was just like that…”
Screams. Howls. Some of agony, others of glee.
Jess pressed her hands over her ears, reliving the sounds. “Stop. Stop. Run away.”
She didn’t mean him. She meant the shadowy figures throwing diesel on the fire and reveling as the flames licked higher. She meant Janna, whose hand was shaking in Jessica’s, at least in her memories.
“Jess. It’s okay.” He squeezed just hard enough to chase that awful night away.
“It was the same. Me and Janna, rushing through the forest. Wondering who was out there. Trying to get away…”
She shook and blabbered a little, and her wolf howled inside. Everything he’d missed at Black River, she’d had to suffer through.
“All my fault…” she mumbled.
He pulled away and took her by both shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, Jess. How could it be your fault?”
“They all died. Everyone but Janna and me.”
He shook his head vehemently. “The rogues did that, not you. Jess, it wasn’t you.”
“My fault, because I pushed my pack to get closer to your clan. I pushed for the alliance through our mating.” Tears seeped through his shirt and she clutched harder.
“No,” he said. “No.” He’d been down that rabbit hole himself, but it wasn’t true. He’d screwed a lot of things up, but not that. Not loving her. “That was the rogues. The rogues killed your family.”
“I brought it on them.”
He shook her slightly. “Love, Jess. It was love. How could that be a bad thing?”
She stared at him. Her lip trembled.
His heart pounded. The blood in his veins roared. Say it! Say it again!
“I loved you. I still love you. And nothing — nothing — will ever make that wrong.”
She gaped, probably because he was nearly shouting, but he couldn’t help it. He’d accept responsibility for lots of fucking up. For hurting her, too. But he’d never, ever regret loving her. Not for one instant.
“Our love didn’t kill anyone,” he insisted. “The rogues did. Don’t mix it up, Jess. Don’t.”
She clutched his shoulders and looked at him through teary eyes. “But what about now? It’s all messed up.”
Where his answer came from, he didn’t know. From a well of wisdom he didn’t know he had, maybe? From all the ghosts of his past? “Doesn’t have to be. Doesn’t have to be.”
She searched his eyes, so he plunged on.
“Destiny wanted us together. We have our chance now. We can take it.” The words just poured out of him. Out of his heart, out of his soul.
“Destiny…” she echoed uncertainly.
“Destiny.” He nodded. “How did you even get here? To Arizona, I mean?”
“I don’t know. I just… I just followed…”
He knew exactly what she meant. That pull, that inner compass saying, Come here. You need to come here.
“You followed instinct, right?”
She nodded. “Janna and I were hitchhiking, and it felt like…” She motioned vaguely while she groped for words.
“Like that kids’ game, playing hot and cold. Getting warmer, warmer… Right?”
“Right. It just felt right. But then it felt like we’d gone too far, so we got the driver to drop us off.”
“Where?” He held his breath. “Where?”
She stared at him. “Here. Not a block away from here. We were asking around for jobs, and one of the ranch hands sniffed us out and brought us to Tina…”
He nodded her along.
“And she took us back to the ranch. Even offered us a place to stay there, but…”
“But?” It felt as if his future hung on that word.
“But it didn’t feel right. So we asked her about something else…”
A long, relieved breath left him. He and Soren had done close to the same thing.
“She brought me to you,” Jess whispered. She stroked his shoulder gently. Almost hopefully.
“Destiny brought you here,” he said, finally certain of one thing. “Destiny brought us together again.”
He pulled her into another hug and hung on and on, because he finally understood. All the doubt, the pain, the hopelessness — it wasn’t for nothing. It had all been worthwhile, because it brought him back to his mate.
“You know what Soren and I did
?” Now he was the one blabbering, but what did that matter? “We hunted every last rogue we could find. Killed every one that had been in Montana, down to the last one. And then we were done. Empty. Spent. Never felt so empty in my life. We dug a den and crawled into it…” He trailed off, choking on the thought, then forced himself to go on. She’d said her part; he’d say his. “We crawled in to die because we thought our mates were dead. Lay there for a week, waiting for it…”
She ran her hands over his back. “No! Simon! No.”
He shook his head. “But it didn’t work. My bear wouldn’t let go. And I thought I was a worse failure because of it.”
“What?” She pulled back. “How could you?”
“Not only did I fail my clan, I couldn’t even die like I should have. The way the old stories say. That when one mate dies…”
“…the other follows,” she finished. “They give up on life to follow their mate.”
He nodded. “And I couldn’t even do that right. But it wasn’t that…” God, now he understood. “My bear wouldn’t let go because you were still alive. You were still out there…”
“Looking for you,” she said.
Now it was his turn to stare. “Looking for me?”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood a little straighter. “I was looking for something. I didn’t know what. But it was you. I was looking for you.”
“You…” Even his bear was trembling inside. Looking for me?
“I love you,” she whispered once, then said it louder. “I love you. Even when you didn’t love me—”
He winced. “I always loved you. I’m so, so sorry about the rest.”
Say it again, idiot, his bear demanded. Say both those things a thousand times.
He tried, but he couldn’t, because her eyes flashed and her hands tightened on his shirt.
“I’m sor—” he started, but he didn’t finish because she pulled him closer and covered his mouth with hers in a kiss. A kiss that knocked the wind out of him, it felt that good.
“Maybe it’s time we both stopped being sorry,” she said when she came up for air. “Maybe it’s time we just let ourselves live.”
He tried to say something, even if he had no clue what that might be. But then it didn’t matter any more, because she kissed him again. Nudged the length of her body along the length of his and ignited a whole different fire inside.
