Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire Book 1) (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Ian had lied. Unintentionally, sure, but it had been five days, and still he hadn’t woken up.

Other than the slow breaths he took, there were no signs of life from her mate. And now she was watching the man she loved waste away, and she couldn’t do anything for him. It had been a mistake to ask him to hibernate human just so she could selfishly keep him for an hour a day. It wasn’t natural for him, and he was suffering because of her.

She felt like grit.

The days had melted together, one after the other as she’d watched over him, day and night, waiting, always waiting, for him to come back to her.

She was only able to sleep for a couple hours at a time, curled up beside him and wishing she was a bear just like him so they could hide all winter in a den somewhere on Afognak and lose this time together. Her restlessness wasn’t all because of Ian, though. Most of it stemmed from the howling wolves outside.

Each night they got closer, louder, more excited. This was their taunt. They could’ve come for her at any time. Perhaps they were waiting to make sure Ian was really down for the winter, but more likely they were waiting because the hunt was the fun of it, right? Once the kill was over, the McCalls would have to go back to their mundane lives of stealing and drinking themselves into oblivion as they waited for their inner monsters to drive them mad.

What an empty life. She pitied them. Elyse loaded another shell into her shotgun. Well, she almost pitied them.

They were close tonight, yipping between the haunting notes of their death song, as if they couldn’t contain their excitement, their bloodlust. She hated them.

Elyse stood and set her shotgun in line with the others, strap toward her so she could grab it quick.

She should be scared, but other than an occasional nervous flutter, she didn’t feel anything. Only resolve to protect Ian at all costs. At all costs.

A six-inch blade hung in a sheath from her hip, and on her other side, she’d fashioned a loop for her hatchet. These were her last-resort weapons. If she got down to her blades, she was probably already dead and just stalling on her fate. She’d used Ian’s phone to call a contact named Clayton again and again. She’d left him voicemails, but the head of Alaska Shifter Enforcement apparently didn’t get involved unless human life was already taken.

Too bad her life was the one that would be sacrificed to gain that kill order.

Miki growled at her feet, his black lips curled back, his teeth gleaming, his bi-colored eyes narrowed on the door. It didn’t matter that he was a puppy. He could look terrifying when he wanted to.

She’d locked the horses and goats in the barn but even from inside the cabin, she could hear them screaming and kicking the stall doors.

Owooooooo. Ooooo. Oooowooooooo.

The song of the wolves lifted and fell, and for the hundredth time, she tried to decipher between the voices. Tried to guess how many were coming for her. Cole had told her he had relatives all over Alaska, and apparently Miller had enough sway to call them all to go on a man hunt. Or as it happened, a woman hunt.

Miki’s growl grew louder and ended in a bark. The hairs rose all along his back and, in a rush, she scooped him up and shoved him in the guest room. God, she hoped she would be okay enough to let him out after this, but he would be killed for sure if he went after the wolves with her.

“I’m sorry, Miki,” she blurted out as she closed the door. Inside, the quarter grown pup went mad, barking constantly.

She bolted for the rifles on the wall, but the door exploded inward, spewing splinters over the living room.

Miller stood in the open doorframe naked and scarred with an empty sneer on his lips. His eyes were white and horrifying, and the first wave of fear washed over her.

“Where is he?”

Elyse gripped the handle of the knife at her hip. “Go to hell.”

“Been there for a long time, pretty bitch.” He lifted his chin, and his nostrils flared as he drew in a noisy breath. Then he strode past her toward the bedroom where Ian was hibernating. With a screech, she pulled her knife out and brought it down into his back.

Miller roared in pain and swung around. The back of his hand blasted across her face, and Elyse flew against the wall as the world spun on its axis. On hands and knees, she blinked rapidly, trying to see straight again as her ears rang with pain. Her face had a pounding pulse, and beneath her, red dripped onto the floorboards. Rage, dark and consuming, tinted her vision, and she spat crimson, then stood in time to see Miller dragging Ian’s limp body past her.

The guns were stacked on the opposite side of the door—too far. Rushing Miller, she tackled him and beat on him with her closed fists, so hard, her hands felt like they were breaking. With a scream, she clawed his face so hard her nails ached and loosened. Miller’s face was terrifying as he rounded on her, but she was ready. Ducking out of his way, she pulled on Ian’s leg, dragging him back into the heart of the house as best she could.

Miller shoved her off Ian and pulled him toward the door.

“Ian, wake up!” Elyse screamed, pulling on his leg.

“Let go!” Miller yelled.

“Ian!” She pulled the hatchet and swung forward, catching Miller across the cheek before he could pull away.

“Fuck,” he raged, holding his face. He jumped over Ian’s body and caught her by the throat and the wrist. “You stupid cunt. Can’t you see I’m trying to save you for last? I want you to savor this with us. Why are you so determined to mark me?” The rage slipped from his face as his lips twisted up in a cruel smile. “You would’ve made a beautiful breeder. You could’ve given us McCall pups for the next generation, but you chose him instead.”

She fought like a wild, injured animal, snapping, kicking, and writhing against his grip. She reared back and spat on his face. “I’d never breed with anyone so broken.”

“Broken?” Miller let of a low, empty chuckle. “Am I broken, Elyse? Was my brother broken?”

“Yes!”

“Wrong!” He slammed her back against the wall. “Cole was coming into his own. A true man-eater, just like the old days. Back in the times where shifters didn’t cower in the shadows. We took what we fucking wanted and we bathed in the blood of humans because they were prey. They were lesser.” He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her with the violence of a tornado, then pulled back before she recovered enough to bite him. “You’re lesser, Elyse.” He pulled the hatchet from her hand and leaned in close, pinning her with his weight. “A mark for a mark.”

“Ian!” she screamed, struggling against Miller. “Wake up!”

Miller gripped her neck and slammed her head backward, and before her vision cleared, it was done. Just one swipe of the sharpened blade down her cheekbone, so deep it didn’t even hurt yet.

With a smile, he whispered, “Beautiful.” Then released her neck and let her fall to the floor, gasping.

Warmth trickled down her face as she watched Miller drag Ian’s body out the front door by the leg. She blinked hard as time slowed. She’d thought it would be hard to kill a man. Had thought about it countless times over the last week, but this, right here, changed everything.

A strange calmness washed through her as she stood and strode for the row of rifles. She shouldered the straps of five and grabbed the satchel of ammunition. The last gun she aimed as she walked out of the house and into the cold evening. “Let him go.” She didn’t recognize her voice. It was low and steady.

When she chambered a bullet and clicked the safety off, Miller froze. In the tree line, animal eyes glowed, and in the background, Miki’s desperate barking sounded over and over.

“This is my house, my property, and you’re filthy fucking hand is on my mate. Let him go, or I’ll put a hole in you.”

“You shoot me, and all those wolves in your woods will attack.”

She shrugged one shoulder and moved closer to Ian, her gait smooth as she held the barrel of her rifle in the general vicinity of Miller’s chest.

Miller gave a disbelieving laugh and dropped Ian’s leg in the snow with a thud. “Cole told me all about you, Elyse. He said you were weak. Easily manipulated and soft-hearted. All the things that get you killed out here.”

His eyes narrowed to white slits, and a snarl ripped from his chest as his head snapped back and fur sprouted from his body.

Elyse planted her feet and held a quick breath as Miller stood crouched before her, an oversize black wolf with murder in his eyes. Teeth bared, he lunged for her, and she pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot was deafening.

As the wolves in the tree line charged the clearing, she lifted the rifle from Miller’s limp body at her feet and took aim at the next.

Determined to protect the man she loved, she murmured, “Cole was wrong.”

****

Ian, wake up. You have to wake up.

Ian shook his head and tried to open his eyes. That voice. He knew it. Needed it. That voice was everything that anchored him to this world.

“Ian!”

With a massive effort, he opened his eyes, but he didn’t understand the scene before him.

Shot after echoing shot filled the air. Snow falling down, and
her
, standing above him like an avenging angel. Her eyes were blazing gold next to all that dripping red on her face. Warrior.
Elyse
. The name brushed his mind. His Elyse. She was hurt.

She aimed the shotgun.
Boom.
Her rifle swung over his body to something else.

Growling, snarling, snow crunching, the stink of wolf so close he could almost feel their teeth on his back. The fine hairs on his body rose.

“Hold your breath,” Elyse murmured, then pulled the trigger again. “Reload.” Her fingers were steady as she cracked the shotgun open and shoved two more shells into it. “Remember, remember.” Her voice dipped to a whisper as she yanked the barrel back into place. “Ian, please wake up.” Her voice sounded so soft, defeated, as if she’d given up on him.

Ian clenched his hands, willing himself up. The wolves were threatening his mate. She was hurt. Bleeding. He would kill whoever had done this. Kill them. Kill.

He mustered every ounce of his energy, conjured his monster, called on the snarling bruin inside of him. This was it. His animal had always wanted to rampage, and here was his chance. Bones cracking, he gave himself to the bear.

Changed, Ian stood to his full height and roared his fury. So many wolves. How were there this many? Ian charged, drawing their attention away from Elyse. He stumbled, so exhausted, but he had to protect her. Had to draw them back into the woods so she could get away. Get inside and lock the door.

Run, Elyse!

Teeth sank into his back, and he spun, caught a gray wolf with his claws as three more attacked. He was surrounded, but this was the way it was supposed to be. Elyse was supposed to live.

The sounds of high caliber rifle shots echoed now, one after the other, and the wolf at his throat dropped like a stone under him.

In desperation to buy her time, he clawed and fought. Pain slashed at him, but he had no thought save mauling the next wolf, and the next.

“Lincoln, help us!” Elyse yelled.

Lincoln? He was one of them. The enemy. A McCall.

“Please!” Elyse begged.

Another shot rang out.

Two wolves were fighting now. Dissention in the ranks, but it wouldn’t be enough. Ian had four on him, and his fur was matted with red. Pain, pain, pain.

Another shot and another, and Ian couldn’t stand on his own anymore. Too little energy left. Too much ache. Too much red snow.

He hit the ground hard, but the teeth left him. Inhaling deeply, he pried his eyes open. Elyse was sprinting for him, boots crunching against the deep snow, rifle up as her blazing gold eyes followed something he couldn’t see. Warrior. Badass. Fearless.
My mate. Mine.
It was okay to go like this, looking at
her
.

Elyse stood over his body, weapon trained on something in the woods, but she didn’t move to pull the trigger anymore.

Her hand brushed his fur. So comforting. “Ian, it’s okay to sleep. I’ve got you.” She looked at him with such fierce determination and repeated, “I’ve
got
you.”

And then the winter woods faded, leaving only Elyse’s fearless gold eyes for a moment before the world went dark.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

November

December

January

February

March

April

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

Ian grunted and pushed upward, paws against something cold and unfamiliar. Wooden floors? He forced his eyes open and looked around the den. Not his den on Afognak, but he knew this smell.
Home.

He was starving, but he didn’t need to go far. There were wooden crates of food, filled with sawdust and shelves of canned meat. Strips of smoked venison hung from the rafters above. He needed to Change back but couldn’t fight the gnawing hunger long enough. Ravenously, he yanked down the long strips of venison and tore into them until every bit of the meat was devoured. Only when that was gone did he brave the pain of the Change after the long winter.

His human body was smudged and emaciated, but that part was expected. What he couldn’t comprehend was why there was a web of new scars across his legs and torso. What the hell? His stomach still felt so hollow he was nauseous, so he pulled the canned meat from the shelves and ate that, too, then moved onto the remaining carrots in the wooden crate. Only when he’d eaten everything in the root cellar besides the strands of garlic did he crawl up the ladder and out of the den.

Even muted, the light in the living room was blinding, and he had to blink several times to bear it. Elyse wasn’t here. He couldn’t hear her or Miki, and a sliver of worry took him as the memories of Changing mid-hibernation crashed down on him. He stumbled toward the bathroom. It smelled like her. Even the shampoo she used lingered, so she must be okay. Still here, protecting him. He ran the water in the shower, but it was just a trickle and cold as balls. Still, he scrubbed his skin clean. He ghosted a glance at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, but his face looked just as wretched as it always did. Hollow face, long beard, dull, sunken eyes. A vain part of him didn’t want Elyse to see him like this.

Outside, an unfamiliar dog barked out a deep timbre. Ian ran his hand over his damp hair and then noticed the pile of neatly folded clothes in the corner of the bedroom. The stretch of his smile felt good after so long, and when he lifted the garments to his nose, they smelled like the soap Elyse made. No dusty, musty clothes like he usually changed into when he first woke up from hibernation.

He dressed as quickly as his aching muscles allowed, then stumbled to the living room. He pushed the thin curtain back from the window and froze. The dog wasn’t unfamiliar. Miki was just grown. He stood in the middle of the yard, looking up at something with a dog grin, his tongue lolled out to the side. He was big, much bigger than Ian had ever thought a runt would grow. Strong legs, a straight back, and a thick black and white coat that had a healthy sheen. White eyebrows over his mismatched eyes gave him a humanlike expression as he barked again.

“Beggar,” a soft voice said.

The smile fell from Ian’s lips as he pulled the curtain back farther. Elyse chucked a big stick into the woods and laughed a tinkling, happy sound as Miki bounded off toward it.

Ian’s breath froze in his throat. A long red scar ran down the length of her cheekbone now, though she didn’t favor it. Her smile was still just as big. She looked different in other ways, though. Her hair was longer and hung around her shoulders in soft, pretty waves. She wasn’t rail-thin anymore. She was stronger, and her posture was straighter. Her laugh echoed through the homestead and warmed him as Miki danced proudly back to her with the stick.

Unable to keep from touching her another second, Ian pulled open the door.

Elyse’s eyes jerked immediately to his, and she let off a tiny shocked sound. “Ian.”

Unsteady, he strode down the porch stairs as she sprinted toward him. He wasn’t strong enough yet to catch all of her weight as she launched at him like a torpedo, so he fell backward with her, cradling her from the fall as he laughed. Back in the mud, he clutched her to him. She felt so damned good against him, all warm and clutching his shirt. She was crying, so he held her even tighter and kissed the top of her hair.

Miki was bounding around him, whacking him with the stick in his mouth, so Ian let go of Elyse just long enough to rough up the dog’s fur on his head.

Elyse eased back, her eyes rimmed with moisture and her cheeks damp. “Ian, say something to me. I’ve waited so long to hear your voice.”

He cleared his raspy throat and whispered, “I love you.” That should be the first thing she heard from him. And from this spring onward, he swore to himself he would always start their warm-weather life with those words.

“I love you, too.” She nuzzled against his neck and curled her body over him. “I love you, I love you, I love you. And also, you should know I had to tell Josiah what you are.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, how else do you think I dragged your big furry ass into the root cellar? We had to borrow a damned tractor from the Fairways just to get you to the porch. Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you. So many stories. Books I read and all the trouble Miki got into and one of the cows had a late season calf and I snared a rabbit all by myself and Ian, I missed you so much!”

He chuckled under the tiny kisses she laid all over his face, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Holding the back of her head, he pulled her close and leaned up. Her lips met his, and he closed his eyes against how damned good she felt. It could’ve been minutes or hours before he eased back.

Above him, the sun was shining behind her head like a halo as Elyse smiled down at him. His mate was so stunning she stole his breath away. Gently, he ran his finger against the long, red scar on her face.

The smile slipped from her mouth, and she shrugged. Dropping her gaze, she whispered, “I’ve been nervous about you seeing me like this.”

“No,” he whispered, his throat tightening. He knew that feeling. He’d had the same insecurity about her seeing him right after hibernation. “Elyse, look at me.”

She couldn’t seem to, so he rocked upward and pulled her into a straddle across his lap, then hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her striking green-gold gaze to his. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And that scar? Sexy as hell. You got that protecting me, didn’t you?”

Her face crumpled, and her chin trembled with emotion, but she was holding his gaze now, his brave mate. She nodded once as a tear slipped to her cheek. “Yes.”

Ian closed his eyes against the heartache. She was marked forever because of him. But another emotion overwhelmed any sadness that would take away from her moment of triumph. She’d waged war on an entire pack of werewolves and won. And then she’d gone through something unspeakably hard in the aftermath—healing and dealing with the trauma all alone. And here she was, healthy and strong, filling their yard with laughter and gifting him easy smiles. “I’m so proud of you.”

Elyse laughed thickly and buried her face against his neck, hugging him up tight. She was crying again, but that was okay. It didn’t make her soft. He’d seen her go to battle for him and knew what she was capable of.

“I saw you standing over me, firing at any wolf trying to get to me. Bleeding and fearless. You stunned me, Elyse. My beautiful badass.”

She sighed a happy sound and snuggled into his embrace, as if she could never be close enough to him.

He smiled over her shoulder as Miki lay down and began gnawing on his stick. Ian inhaled deeply and looked around the homestead to the barn, then to the pasture where the small herd of cattle bawled occasionally, chewing on their hay. He looked to the horses’ corral where Demon was acting ornery as ever, bucking and nipping at Milo.

Everything and nothing had changed.

“Ian?” Elyse whispered against his throat.

“Yes?”

“You said to give you a winter season.”

His smile deepened. Oh, he knew what she was asking. He eased her back and kissed the long scar on her cheek, then let his lips linger on hers before he drew back and asked, “Knowing everything, are you still in this?”

Her lips trembled into a smile, and she nodded. “I am.”

Ian swallowed hard and brushed her wavy hair behind her ear so he could better see her. Lifting his gaze to hers, he asked, “Elyse, will you marry me?”

She laughed and gripped his wrists, held his palms to her cheeks as they flushed pink and warm under his touch. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I already bought a dress.”

Ian chuckled and searched her dancing eyes. “Is
that
a yes?”

And then Elyse, his Elyse, pursed her lips and nodded an answer that changed his entire life for the better in the span of an instant. With a shuddering sigh, she rested her forehead against his and smiled. “The answer was always yes.”

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