Grayslake: More than Mated: Bear Up (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

Bears. They’d been attacked by bears.

“Oh god, there’s so much blood.”

Before he could ask anything else, there was the sound of movement from the other end of the line and a new voice spoke. Deep with bear tones and male, it was instantly familiar.

“Itan? It’s Bennett. We got a couple of intruders. Five by the smell of it. They caught Braun and her friends in the alley by the library. One got tagged and it’s bad.”

Fear struck his heart like a lance. He’d heard the phrase used before and always scoffed at it for being too fanciful and flowery. But as he sagged forward, his arms numb with the pain, he realized it absolutely felt like someone had jammed a six-foot spike of metal right through his body. So much so, he actually had to flick a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one had snuck into the room behind him and attacked. The room was empty apart from Morgan and him, so he focused on Bennett’s words.

“Which one?”

There was a hesitant pause on the other end of the line and he had to bite back a growl, wanting nothing more than to reach through the phone, grab Bennett and shake some answers out of him. He knew the answer though, in his heart of hearts. He just didn’t want to admit it. Wanted to believe that his fated had stayed home tonight, washing her hair or something, and that Kait and Lilly were out with someone else.

“It’s not…” He cleared his throat, meeting his demons head on with a calm, low voice. “Is it the Leroy girl?”

The next words out of Bennett’s mouth shattered his hopes into a thousand pieces.

“Yeah, it’s Kacie Leroy. How did you kn—”

The roar broke free before Dean could stop it; pain, fury and fear pouring straight from his heart and soul. Someone had hurt Kacie. Hurt his fated mate. His delicate, little
human
mate. His fragile little human mate.

Shit.

“Get it together, bro,” he heard Morgan saying, the big warlock appearing a thousand miles away through the red-tinge over Dean’s vision. “We can deal with this. You know we can.”

He nodded and forced the primal rage pulsing from the feral parts of his soul down.

“Get her to the lodge,” he ordered, his voice laden with the roughness of his bear trying to break free. All it wanted to do was tear through his human form and race to their mate’s side. Protect her. Kill whoever had hurt her. Then Morgan could bring them back so he could kill the bastards again. And again. And again. Fuck, even centuries wouldn’t be enough for him to slake the fury in his soul.

“Yes, Itan.” Bennett’s voice was level but wary. Dean recognized the tone. It was the sort people used when someone was on the edge and about to lose it totally. It was the same tone he’d been using with Kait Turner mere minutes ago.

“Now!”

“We’re on our way,” Bennett assured him. “Scott went to get a truck…” He paused for a second. “He’s just about here now.”

“Good. Don’t waste time.” With that last order, Dean cut the connection and looked up at Morgan. He knew his face was pale, the blood draining away in his shock.

“My mate’s been hurt.”

It was all he needed to say. All he
could
say. The thought of anything else was just too much to bear.

T
he truck pulled
up outside the lodge in a screech of tires. Dean and Morgan were already moving before the vehicle had fully come to a stop. Yanking down the tailgate, Dean leaped up into the truck bed.

The first sight of Kacie, her normally golden skin pale and splattered with blood, several shirts wadded over her stomach, knocked all the breath out of him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, on his knees next to her as he reached out to brush her hair gently back from her face.

She lay so still. The dark eyes that usually spat fire and quick comments back at him were closed. He mourned their loss, wanting nothing more than to gather her into his arms as if he could make everything better by his touch alone. Hadn’t alphas way back when been able to do that? Heal as well as fight? So the legends said anyway.

“Morgan…” He looked up at the other man in silent appeal. Dean was an alpha and a soldier. He knew about a hundred different ways to kill a man, but nothing about healing. Luckily, Morgan did.

“Let’s see what we’ve got.
No, don’t move her yet,”
the big warlock snapped when two of the younger bears in the truck started to pick up the body board Kacie had been strapped onto. His movements were efficient as he checked her over but, despite his calm expression and manner, Dean had seen enough wounded men to know the signs weren’t good. She was too pale, her skin color was wrong and her breath came in short, sharp pants.

“Hold on there, babe,” he whispered, unable to stop his fingertips brushing over her cheek. He’d never allowed himself to touch her before, so each stroke of her silken skin was precious.

“Okay, inside. Lift her carefully,” Morgan ordered, his gaze snapping to Dean. “Your fated mate?”

There was a collective intake of breath, and all the bears in the truck tried their hardest not to have heard that little nugget of information. Dean sighed. There was no hiding it now even if he’d wanted to, so he nodded.

“She is.”

“Good. Then I hope you’re feeling strong, lover boy, because you’re going to be using that bear of yours to power her healing.”

“To my last breath,” he promised, following the healer and his injured mate as she was carried inside.

Morgan took over, sweeping everything off the large dining table in the middle of Dean’s quarters to clatter to the floor.

“On the table. Then get out,” he ordered, already reaching inside his shirt for the leather bag around his neck as the bears rushed to do his bidding.

Dean blinked in surprise. Battered leather, Morgan had worn the small pouch around his neck for as long as Dean had known him, but he’d never actually seen the warlock open it.

He did now, chanting as he laid out the items within at intervals around Kacie’s still form on the table. There was a small bundle of hair tied with a pink ribbon, a wolf’s fang, a delicate gold earring, a small vial of something that shimmered gold and silver and, lastly, a man’s silver ring.

As he placed the ring down, his blue eyes flicked up and speared Dean. “Shirt open.”

“What? Didn’t think you were inclined that way, bro,” Dean chuckled, already ripping at the buttons to reveal a heavily muscled chest. Shit, Morgan could have told him to dance the fucking hula while wearing nothing but a pink tutu and a damn unicorn horn and he’d have done it. He’d do anything that would help his fated mate. Anything to have her up and about rather than motionless and pale on the table in front of him.

The ghost of a smile graced the other man’s lips. “I’m not, not that it makes any difference. We’re going to need skin-to-skin contact for this to work.”

He moved forward, a small, very sharp knife suddenly appearing in his hand as he leaned over Kacie.

Dean snarled, the sound breaking free at the perceived threat to his mate. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The warlock didn’t even look up. “Chill, big man. Skin to skin, remember? And the way your hands are shaking I don’t want you anywhere near her with either a knife
or
claws.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he simply nodded as Morgan began to cut Kacie’s top away with delicate movements, making sure to leave the makeshift dressing over her stomach in place. Dean couldn’t even look at it. He knew exactly what damage claws could do to such soft, unprotected flesh. The thought of a bear doing that to her, to his little human, made him sick to his stomach. It fed the rage that tried to escape his control.

He refused to let it. Now was not the time or the place. First, he needed to make sure Kacie would live. His hands curled into hard fists, claws punching through his own skin and into his palms deeply enough for blood to run freely. But soon… soon he’d let the beast out on whoever had done this to her.

And they would pay. Dearly.

“Okay, we’re good. On the table.”

He didn’t ask questions. Being careful not to jostle her, he climbed onto the table and reached out to pull Kacie into his arms. Even though she was unconscious, his body relaxed a fraction. Her weight against him felt right. She fit perfectly, like the other half of the puzzle that was him, her curves fitting against the harder planes of his body.

Closing his eyes, he buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath.

“The first time I hold her,” he admitted to Morgan in a raw voice, “and she doesn’t know a thing about it.”

“Oh, she knows.” The warlock moved around the table, his hands never ceasing in their movements as he drew symbols in the air. Dean couldn’t see them, but then he didn’t expect to. He never had, not in all their years of service. Apparently those without the sight couldn’t see the magic…and shifter blood just wasn’t magic enough. Practically boring according to the warlock. Dean had never known whether to be amused or insulted by that. He was an Itan, the most powerful bear in his clan and he was…not enough?

“She does?” he asked in surprise.

“Her breathing has calmed down and her heart rate has leveled out. Now will you stop fucking yapping so I can finish this spell and save your girlfriend?”

“Shutting up right now.”

“Good.” Morgan finished his circuit and came to stand by the side of the table. His expression was serious. “Right. I’m going to draw off some of the power of your bear to force her to heal. Humans really are rather simple to mend if you know what you’re doing…”

Dean’s lips didn’t even quirk. “Can you quit fucking yapping and save my girlfriend?”

Morgan gave the tiniest grin, a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes,
Itan.
Might wanna brace yourself because this is probably going to hurt. A lot.”

For the next hour Dean lay in silence, using his bigger body to cushion and cradle the silent woman in his arms. Morgan’s spell snapped shut about them, an invisible cage the Itan felt pulling at him, trying to yank his bear’s strength out through his very skin. It felt and sounded like they were in the center of a tornado, being buffeted and abused by the very air around them.

“Hold it. Control it!” Morgan roared over the chaos. “She can’t take too much power at once… her body will burn out.”

Dean nodded, sweat breaking out all over his skin as he forced his bear to remain in its cage, the door barely open to allow just enough power through. He didn’t need Morgan’s magical instincts to know that the spell had almost run its course. Make or break time.

Please Lady Luna,
he sent a quick prayer up to the moon goddess he and some of his people still worshipped.
Let her live and I’m yours in this life and the next.

Pain racked his body, from holding still for so long and from keeping the connection between him and his bear on a knife edge. But he was only a man, and his strength was finite.

“
HOLD IT!”
Morgan bellowed as he began to slip. Fear hit hard and fast then. He was too weak. He couldn’t hold it. He would fail and Kacie would burn out… die.

Help came from an unexpected source. As he began to lose his grip on the connection between him and his beast, the bear didn’t break free as he’d expected. Instead, the creature added its strength to his, supporting him as they both fed power to Kacie.

Ours. Protect. Heal,
the beast rumbled.

Dean allowed himself a smile.
Yes. Ours.

“That’s it! It’s working!” Morgan caroled in triumph, his voice raising to chant unintelligible words in a language Dean never wanted to hear ever again. They rose in a crescendo until…

Silence fell between one second and the next. Dean’s breath rasped in his ears as he looked around, wondering if someone had let off a percussive grenade in the room and robbed him of hearing.

Morgan leaned over them, his fingers prying at the edges of the dressings across Kacie’s midsection. They came away easily, the skin beneath unmarked.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed, hardly believing the evidence of his own eyes. Relief hit half a second later, making him shake and haul her closer in his hold. “It worked. It actually fucking worked!”

Morgan chuckled. “Of course it worked. What do you think I am, some kind of hedge-witch? Now, are you going to cuddle her all night or are you going to let me clean her up and check for any other wounds while you go and deal with whatever hell is breaking out with your bears in the other room?”

“Fuck.”

At the warlock’s words, Dean became aware of the growls and rumbles from the room next door. He wasn’t sure how Itans from other clans handled things, but in the Lizard Lick lodge, the Itan lived literally in the middle of things. His quarters were a two story apartment built right into the side of the bigger building. It meant that he was on hand to deal with most things that cropped up, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

It was a blessing when things like Kacie being injured happened and a curse went he wanted a bit of peace and quiet but kept getting interrupted by the werebear version of squabbling siblings.

Easing himself from his now peacefully sleeping mate, he slid off the table and stalked toward the door. He didn’t care that his shirt was torn and covered in blood or that his bear had poked fur through his skin. After what he’d been through tonight, seeing his fated mate unconscious and bleeding from a gut wound inflicted by other bears, no one had better comment on his fashion sense. Not if they knew what was good for them.

He yanked the door open to find himself looking at a crowd. Well, the back of a crowd anyway. His eyes narrowed. What looked like most of the clan was packed into the main room of the lodge. He couldn’t see to the commotion at the center of the room through the mass in front of him.

It was a large room, but the presence of so many bears made the air thick with shift potential, not to mention the threat of violence that was inherent anywhere large groups of bears gathered. Some of the males just couldn’t keep their aggressive tendencies in check. Which was why the clan had enforcers—their very own police for want of a better word—responsible for ensuring the clan’s laws were obeyed.

Like the two bears who were at the center of the commotion. Dean moved to the side to get a better view as a female voice cut through the noise of the crowd.

“Laws and regulations are what keep order. They protect not just our clan but all the clans. And there are consequences for breaking them.”

Lilly Braun, his head enforcer, stood in the middle of the room, facing down another bear with a snarl on her lips and a furious expression. In the sudden silence the sound of her claws descending was a clear warning.

He craned his neck to see which asshole had pissed Braun off. An alpha female, she was more dangerous than most of the males in the clan and not a woman to tick off lightly. And from the look on her face, she was way past ticked off and heading into righteous fury territory.

The other bear had his back to Dean, but one look at the set of his shoulders and the back of his head made him hiss in recognition. Brad Harrison was one of the elitist pricks who’d been a pain in Dean’s ass for the last couple of months.

The crowd murmured, the anticipation in the air matching that running through his veins. Perhaps he’d get lucky and Brad would piss Braun off enough that she’d kick his ass good and proper. He knew assholes like Brad through and through. The shame would be too much for him and he’d move on, becoming a problem for another Itan and another clan.

Or… he’d go rogue, like the ones who had attacked Kacie, Lilly and Kait, and become even more of a problem.

Another bear stepped forward, his big frame overshadowing Braun’s as he took up position next to her. Brad’s shoulders tensed as he looked up at the bigger man. Creed was another of the enforcer team, a man as big as a freaking bear and just as strong even in human form.

“I’m not breaking any laws,” Brad whined, and then he seemed to shift tactic. “I challenge Creed for the right to claim the human woman.”

Shit. That was what this was about. Instantly, Dean’s eyes cut to Kait, half hidden behind Creed. She was pale, but that was no surprise. She’d just been thrust into what, for her, must be the stuff of nightmares and discovered that the bogeyman under the bed was, in fact, real.

“Creed?” Kait’s expression was fearful. “Can he do that?”

“He can challenge.” The big man’s voice was a deep rumble, laden with his bear. One he didn’t show often but that Dean knew was there. “But he has to meet me in the pit. And he’s not fucking walking out of it alive.”

His words broke the dam.

“Yeah? Says who, you fucking skin?” Brad surged forward, fury and violence written in every line of his body. “I’ll tear you to fucking pieces and fuck your woman before your corpse is cold.”

Dean bit back his chuckle. Brad was a relatively big bear when shifted, and pretty good with his claws, but Creed was something else entirely. He never fought shifted but he was lethal even in human form. Brad didn’t stand a chance in the pit but was obviously too dumb to realize it.

“Just try it, asshole,” Creed growled, stepping forward.

“Down boys,” Lilly snapped, looking from one to the other. “Challenge has been called and accepted?”

At Creed’s nod, she lifted her voice to address the room. “On behalf of Kaitlyn Turner, the challenged’s mate, I claim rite of preparation. Challenge will be met in the pit in twenty-four hours.”