Lumberman Werebear

by T. S. Joyce

  He was nothing to her. Just muscle and bone that stood in between her and something that scared her.

  Still, he hated watching her struggle down the street, her luggage wheels bumping and teetering as she dragged it along.

  “Here,” he said, jogging to catch up, “let me help you.”

  “I don’t need you,” she spat out. Her eyes were rimmed with moisture, and he skidded to a stop, utterly shocked. What had he done to cause tears from a woman like Cassie? Something awful, clearly.

  “I don’t need anyone.” She narrowed her eyes and jerked the luggage handle to get it moving again.

  As Haydan watched her stumble up the dilapidated stairs to ten-ten and disappear inside, he knew she was telling the truth. She might need him for protection, but emotionally, she was adrift at sea, on a life raft all alone, and preferred it that way.

  No touching.

  She wasn’t just referring to physically.

  He couldn’t touch her if he tried.

  ****

  She hated him. Hated him. Hated him with such vitriol she couldn’t stand it.

  Haydan was doing something awful to her insides. Mixing her up. Asking questions. Why? Why did he care what her answers were? About her past? Jake hadn’t given two shits how she was feeling or doing. He’d been smart enough not to ask stupid questions that dredged up her emotions. He’d been in the Menagerie too. He and Matt and all the others, and no one got her but them. No, just Matt now. Jake and the others were dead.

  Stop it. Stop thinking about the lost ones.

  Her knees buckled, and she fell forward onto the cheap laminate wood floors. Why were they squishy? No lights. She didn’t want light. Not until she was strong again. She lay on the floor and curled into herself to absorb the blow of grief. Stupid feelings. He’d scratched at the chains she used to keep her demons in the dark. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

  Jake hadn’t tortured her like this. He’d hated her just enough to be bearable. Hated her. Her.

  Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her arms around her middle as another wave of agony crashed over her, drowning her. Couldn’t breathe. Heart hurting, chest refusing oxygen. A sob escaped her. So weak. Pathetic.

  And then he was there. Haydan. Holding her until his skin burned against hers. No touching. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes. He’d find out soon enough that she hurt everyone. She could be a good mate if he’d only just leave her at a distance. He was messing everything up.

  He smelled good with each sobbing inhalation. Piney woods, crisp, clean, a hint of rich whiskey, and…worry. For her?

  “Shhh,” he crooned, holding her tight against his chest as if she were a small child. “I’m here.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” she gasped out. “You’re going to ruin this.”

  He gripped her tighter, rested his cheek on top of her mussed hair, rocked her gently. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

  “Help me,” she choked out. Too much feeling flooded through her, filling her veins and pushing the air out of her lungs. Too much.

  “What do I do?” Haydan sounded panicked now. Hot AF Haydan.

  Gasping for breath, she struggled with her clothes. No time for the shirt, but the jeans she peeled away and kicked off her ankles.

  “What are you doing, Cas?” More panic in Haydan’s voice.

  It gutted her. She was supposed to be a good mate, not scare him away the first night.

  “Please, please,” she rasped out. “It’ll be okay after, but please.”

  Sobbing, she knelt on her hands and knees, her back to him as she arched her spine and presented her sex for him to take.

  “This isn’t right, Cas. I can’t just… I can’t screw you when you’re crying.”

  Cassie took a long, deep breath. Just thinking about him inside of her made this easier. “This will make me forget…” Shit, no. That’s not what she wanted to talk about. “It’ll make the panic attack stop.”

  Haydan’s dark eyes were wide in the blue moonlight that filtered through the open living room window. He shook his head slowly, ready to deny her, but already his gaze was drifting back and forth from her eyes to her sex. She rolled her hips so he could see her wet folds.

  “Please,” she begged him over her shoulder.

  His chest was heaving as he searched her eyes in the dim light. Tomorrow she’d regret this, asking him to fix her, but right now, she was too far gone to care.

  Haydan unzipped his jeans and a zing of excitement shot through her, loosening her throat by a fraction. He was going to make her better. She trusted him. Trusted him.

  Haydan wouldn’t hurt her. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t a monster like Carl.

  Lip trembling, arms shaking, she closed her eyes at the potent relief that spread through her as Haydan slid his thick cock inside of her.

  “Harder,” she pleaded, and he did.

  Hands gripping her waist, legs spread, growl deep in his throat, Haydan pounded into her faster and faster until she shattered around him. Until she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything but him. Until the choking panic was gone from her, replaced by the euphoric numbness of orgasm.

  By her second aftershock, Haydan had pulled out of her. She would’ve complained about him not drawing each one from her, but she was too high. Falling forward, she laughed at the relief she felt.

  “It’s not funny,” he said low.

  “You’re right. You didn’t blow your load, and that is very not funny.” The smile stayed on her lips as she spread out on the cold floor.

  He winced like her words were a slap. “Do you hear yourself right now? Who in their right mind could finish when you’re like that.”

  “Jake.” Every time.

  Haydan’s dark brows wrenched up. “Was Jake your last mate?”

  “Late mate,” she said, voice hard so he would get the hint to back off the subject.

  “Well, I’m not Jake, Cassie. And this? It’s never happening again. Not like that.” He zipped up his pants and threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall.

  “What, no goodnight cuddles?” she asked, hating herself for the soulless words. It was best this way. Best he didn’t like her. Rule number three. No falling in love.

  Haydan spun and strode to her so fast he blurred, then yanked her up by the arms. He glared at her with those intense, inhuman silver eyes of his, drawing gooseflesh across her arms.

  The euphoric feeling slipped away from her as he turned his chin slightly. “I hated that, Cas. Hated it. But you know what I hate worse? The way you’re acting right now, like sex is a drug and you’re an addict. You’re a strong, beautiful woman, Cas. Stronger than this hole you’ve buried yourself in.”

  “You gonna cut off my supply, Haydan?” Why was her voice trembling? She wasn’t afraid of anything. “I’ll just find another mate and get my fix with him.”

  His lip quirked up, and his eyes narrowed. So fast her stomach dipped, he spun her, then ripped her sweater. Scorching pain spread through her neck, and she screamed at the burn of his teeth sinking into the scarred flesh of the mark Jake had given her. Warmth trickled down her back as he pulled away.

  Haydan spun her to face him and grabbed her shoulders in a painful grip. “There’s that claiming mark you wanted so badly, Cas. You’re mine now. Chest out, chin up, princess. Detox starts now.”

  The slamming door was the loneliest sound in the world.

  Chapter Four

  Haydan jogged down the steps of 1010 and grabbed a rock from the street. “Fuck!” he yelled as he flung it as hard as he could into the woods. What had he just done?

  Squatting down, he ran his hands over the back of his head and stared at the ground. He thought of the rest of the Ashe Crew who had found their mates. Tagan and Brooke, Kellen and Skyler, Denison and Danielle, Brighton and Everly, Bruiser and Diem, Drew and Riley. Every one of them had fought to be together, but they’d wanted to be together.
He couldn’t for the life of him tell if Cassie hated him or not. And what had he just done? Claimed her and vowed he was going to help her.

  Thinking about how he’d fucked her made him want to retch in the street. He hated himself for enabling whatever that was in there.

  “You want to tell us what’s going on?” Tagan asked.

  Haydan ran his hands down his face and looked up. Tagan, Bruiser, Drew, and Kellen were standing in the road. Great.

  “I have a mate.” The word sounded weird against his tongue, and he shuddered as the queasiness came back. This wasn’t what it was supposed to feel like to claim a mate.

  “Yeah, we gathered that,” Tagan said, tone void of humor. “The blood on your mouth gave it away.”

  Haydan made a half-hearted attempt to wipe his face on his shoulder. “My mate…Cassie…she’s going through some stuff, and I’d appreciate if you all lay off her while we figure things out.”

  “She’s crying,” Kellen said. “You should fix that.”

  The soft sound of weeping gutted him, but going in there now wouldn’t help her. He’d done this before with Dad—wrung him out after nights of binge drinking at the bar down the street from their shitty one-bedroom apartment. The best thing he could do right now was leave Cassie alone and let her demons have her. She’d have to get through those before she saw any light.

  Haydan stood and cast 1010 one more glance before he pulled his sweater over his head. His bear was roaring to be released, and right now, being around four other riled up, dominant grizzly shifters wasn’t helping.

  “I don’t know if I can fix her,” he said softly.

  He turned for the woods and hopped the fence that stood between the trailer park and wilderness. And when he hit the tree line, Haydan closed his eyes against the ache in his chest and let the bear have his skin.

  ****

  Cassie squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying to hold onto that last minute of sleep. The ruckus outside was killing any chance she had of that, though. Men were talking in a low rumble, accented by the occasional female voice.

  She opened her eyes and stretched against the queen-size mattress she’d fallen face first into last night.

  “Get up and get dressed,” Haydan said.

  She squeaked and flipped over, clutching the comforter to her. After last night, she felt about as vulnerable as a hermit crab out of its shell.

  Early morning light filtered through the double windows on either side of her bed, illuminating Haydan sitting in a chair in the farthest corner of the room. He was relaxed into his seat, one leg bent at the knee, one straight, elbows on the armrests and his hands clasped in front of his face. The silver had left his eyes, but he looked troubled. She did that to people.

  “I went over to your trailer last night,” she said on a breath. “I was going to apologize, but you weren’t there.”

  Haydan canted his head and frowned. “I slept in the woods last night.” Leaning forward, his nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled. “Tell me your apology now.”

  “Demanding.”

  “Tired of games.”

  Oh. Cassie tried to straighten her wild hair with one hand, but it was pointless to fix herself now. She probably had mascara running down her face, too, like a total sex-pot. “I was going to tell you I’m sorry you saw me like that.”

  “I don’t mind seeing you like that. If it’s real. The cold, emotionless act bothers me more than you breaking down.”

  “Okay. Then I’m sorry for hurting you with my words. Sometimes I say things when I get defensive that I don’t really mean.”

  “What did I do to make you defensive?”

  Same shit he was doing right now. She arched her eyebrow. “Asking too many questions.”

  “Did you love Jake?”

  Her breath froze in her throat. She didn’t want to talk about this. Shaking her head slowly, she dropped her gaze to the decorative curve sewn into the blue comforter so she wouldn’t see the disappointment in his eyes.

  “The question isn’t just going to go away if you ignore it, Cassie. I’ll bring it up every day until you tell me.”

  Her stomach curdled, and she squeezed her eyes closed against the panic that flared in her middle. Her new mate wasn’t the type of man to let her run. “No.”

  “Did last night’s panic attack have anything to do with him?”

  “No.”

  Haydan frowned at the false note in her voice. Damn his shifter instincts.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Did you mean what you said last night? About the detox?”

  “Yeah, I’m completely serious.”

  “But why? You’re a man. You need sex, too.”

  “Not at the cost to your mental health, Cas. I don’t need anything that bad. I’m not denying you sex. I’m denying you fucking. You can have all of the bland, vanilla, missionary sex you want with me. But the second you stop looking into my eyes…the second I feel you pulling away from me and using it as a coping mechanism to ignore whatever you should be dealing with right now, I’m done.”

  The man was utterly baffling. Here she was, offering him a friends with benefits package, complete with mindless, emotionless sex, which should’ve been every man’s ideal situation, and Haydan wasn’t having any of it. What the hell had Matt gotten her into?

  “I can tell by the face you’re pulling that you think I’m doing this to hurt you, but I’m not. Get dressed. You need to meet your new crew before we go register to the public.”

  “What? I’m not doing that! I’m not registering!”

  “Whether you choose to register or not is up to you, princess. The rest of us have to. Alpha’s orders.”

  Horror filled her throat. Never mind the human attention. Carl would know exactly where to find her if she registered with the Ashe Crew.

  Haydan rocked upward and sauntered over to the bed in three powerful strides. “Let me see,” he murmured, worry flashing through his dark eyes. With a light brush of his fingertips, he pushed her hair to the side and studied his claiming mark. “I’m not sorry, you know.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “No, and neither is my bear. I didn’t like when you talked about going to get another mate. Not after I saw you hurting, and not after you let me hold you. I know you don’t care for me, but it hurts to think about you leaving. Thinking about you tethering yourself to some asshole who’ll hurt you.”

  “You mean a mate who will give me what I want?”

  Haydan huffed a laugh. “Cas, you don’t know what you want. The woman I saw last night doesn’t know a single thing about herself. It’s time you learned, though, and I’ll be here while you do.”

  “You will?” Her voice came out frail and small.

  “Yeah.” He brushed the still tingling bite mark he’d given her. “We’re stuck together now, princess, for better or worse.”

  Stuck? Why did that word make her cringe inside? She flinched away from his touch and padded into the bathroom. Forcing herself not to look at Haydan, she closed the door and hit the tap.

  The old brown shower took a long time to heat up, but when it did, it was glorious. Truth be told, she felt dirty after last night. That was a first. She’d stayed awake late into the night riddled with guilt over how she’d asked Haydan to take her for their first time. It was supposed to be sexy and memorable, not traumatizing.

  And yet…

  Haydan had come back calm and ready to talk. Who knows how long he’d been sitting in that chair, watching her sleep and gathering his thoughts, but he’d been easy to talk to just now. Patient even.

  Cassie scrubbed fruity shampoo into her hair and frowned at the plastic shower wall. He must’ve had experience with someone like her before. He’d handled her last night in a way that had jerked her head out of her own ass and slapped her back to reality. Jake hadn’t managed to do that once in the four years they’d been mated. When she’d panicked, he would bang her and then leave, just like she’d asked for.
<
br />   Haydan cares.

  No. Cassie scrubbed harder, rinsing her hair under the hot jets of water as she did. People didn’t care like that. Men especially didn’t care like that.

  She was all mixed up and not thinking straight was all.

  After drying her hair and plastering on some make-up, she dressed in her favorite pair of dark wash jeans and a figure-hugging pink sweater to combat the early October chill. She pulled down her collar and stared at the new scar where her neck connected to her shoulder. Warmth spread through her, but she was helpless to know what it meant. She’d never had hot flashes before.

  Purse slung over her shoulder, she marched through the kitchen-living room combo and threw open the door, bolstering her bravado. Everything was going to be okay. She was Cassia Lisa Belle, and she was safe.

  And she had Haydan. Her step faltered on the last porch stair, and she caught herself on the railing. When she looked up, she froze.

  The smell of bacon and fresh cooked eggs wafted to her on the breeze from the bonfire that was going at the end of the road, but that wasn’t what made her eyes bulge. Haydan was cuddling a little girl—a baby really, probably a year old, as a dark-haired woman with caramel-colored eyes watched on with a proud smile. Haydan was spinning the little dark-haired beauty in a slow circle as the baby giggled. Then he’d bring her close and blow on her round little tummy as the baby clutched at the sides of his head and grinned. Then he’d spin her slowly again.

  On the turn, Haydan’s eyes met Cassie’s, and the smile faded from his face. The loss of it slashed pain through her middle. She’d thought him a striking man before, but that smile—that easy, freely given smile—just about undid her.

  He cradled the little girl against his chest, one arm under her bottom while he ran the other over his short hair self-consciously.

  Clearing her throat, Cassie approached him. “Hi,” she said to the woman with a little wave. “I’m Cassie.”

  “I’m Diem,” the woman said, offering her hand for a shake. “People here call me D, though. This is Harper.” She nodded her chin toward the baby in Haydan’s arms.