Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series) (7 page)

“What do you want me to say, Mason? That I’m madly in lust with you, and because you gave me the best oral sex of my life without asking for anything in return, we’ll go off and live happily ever after?” When she put it that way, it almost sounded tempting.

“That’s a decent start,” he snapped.

She blinked at him. Had their sexual encounter meant
that
much to him? It just didn’t make sense. Most guys would be thrilled to have a quick fling and move on. Right?

He paced and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Forget it. I’m going out.”

“Outside, in the pitch dark? For what?”

“I need to cool off.” He seemed so offended by all her responses she had no idea what to say. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“I hope so,” she said, worried.

“Do you?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that. Get some sleep. We have a major hike ahead of us tomorrow.”

Then he stormed off into the night.

5

A few feet from the cave, Mason shifted into bear form. He bolted at a full run.

His claws dug into the earth, kicking up reams of dirt behind him. Branches scraped him, catching patches of fur as he barreled through the trees.

He felt punished by the heartbreak in her past. Unfairly judged by standards he hadn’t created or deserved, but fell victim to anyway.

The sinister urge boiled up inside him to track down her ex-fiancé and tear the flesh from his bones.

In the middle of the dark forest, far from the cave, he reared onto his hind legs and roared at the top of his lungs.

When his front paws touched ground again, the woods grew deathly quiet around him. He gave himself a rough, full-body shake, and several burs flung off his thick coat.

Being denied by his mate had wounded him more deeply than expected. And, Ancients help him, he wanted to claim her with a ferocious intensity he’d never experienced before.

He’d always been driven—with passions that ran hot and fierce like the rest of his kind—but he’d always been the brother who maintained his cool when the fur flew. As the first-born offspring of his father’s prized Alterra bloodline, he prided himself on calculated decisions and concise action. Right now, he wanted to claw the bark off every tree in sight. His head was not in a good place.

Twigs snapped and under his heavy strides. The cool night air felt good on his heated skin.

It still dumbfounded him Steph had succumbed to the pheromone mating scent, letting him taste her sweet honey, only to scamper away when he was done and cover herself, telling him it meant nothing to her.

The opposite was true for him. At first taste, he knew only she could quench his sexual desires. For life. The thought of being intimate with any woman, other than her, repulsed him. Somehow, he needed to ensnare her until she felt the same way as he did. But the path toward that end eluded him.

The clear hoot of an owl pierced his somber mood. A whoosh of air drew his attention overhead, where the bird landed on a branch high above.

Mason gave a sloughing sound in recognition of the creature. Then he issued a particular sound from deep in his gut, a signature only a shifter recognized.

Before he could blink, the owl morphed into human form—or, he assumed, what owls looked like in human form. He’d only come across a few in this area since assuming his Master Guardian status. And the Ollusians, as they called themselves, hadn’t stuck around to chat.

The man’s long, white-blond hair fluttered in the night wind, mirroring the way his white robes flowed like sheets of silk around his narrow body. His facial features were pale, small and sharply hewn, with a perpetual, self-important expression.

“What troubles the mighty bear?” the man questioned mildly, his tone suggesting he really didn’t care.

Mason eyed him, shifting into human form as well. “I thought Ollusians had no interest in the concerns of others.”

“You interrupted my hunting, scared every morsel halfway to Georgia with your noisy griping. I care about that,” the man said, idly inspecting the neat crescents of his nails. “Salmon bone stuck in your craw? Or did you run out of lox for breakfast?”

“Hilarious,” Mason muttered, not rising to the Ollusian’s bait. He’d like to talk to someone about his stale-mate situation with Steph, but not to this guy. What would an Ollusian know about taking a human mate?

Besides, Mason needed to shelve his erratic emotions and focus the overarching event that impacted them all. Before he revealed his information about the mutated rabies strain, though, he needed the bird man to answer some questions. “I haven’t run across many owl shifters. I’m curious, how closely is your DNA tied to humans?”

“By a thread.” The man’s lips curled with disdain. “Careless, destructive creatures. I don’t see why all our Ancestors didn’t band together to wipe them out in their infancy.”

Mason peered at him. “How long have Ollusians existed?”

“A bear wants to discuss my species? Most unexpected.” The man shrugged. “Very well. Here’s your history lesson. I’ll use small words. Try and keep up.”

Mason gave a rough grunt. “First, tell me your name.”

“Ollun,” the shifter replied. “I am to my kind what you are to yours, although we’re far too advanced for terms like Master or Alpha. But I am of similar status as yourself.”

“So a caretaker.”

“A guide,” Ollun corrected. “Or the more banal, ‘leader,’ if your simple mind prefers.”

Mason ignored the man’s digs on his intelligence. “Your lineage is purer, stronger than others of your race,” he said.

Ollun blinked his golden eyes slowly. “Yes. My kin came from the stars. A galaxy far beyond this one. Though why the Ancients deposited us on this dreary, dull planet, I do not know and will never forgive them.”

Interesting. Mason had never heard about this aspect of the Ollusian creation mythology. Mason, however, held the utmost respect for Mother Earth. “Don’t we all come from stardust?”

Ollun clicked his tongue mockingly. “Poor, simple creature. Have you never questioned how owls came to have both eyes facing directly in front, more so than other raptor species?”

“Never had a reason to.”

Ollun sent him a sorrowful glance as if Mason had failed an elementary intelligence test. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re bound to the earth in all ways, whereas we hunt at night under the stars to feel the distant bond to our Ancestors. You, on the other hand, sleep in your own dung.”

“Watch it,” Mason warned. “Werebears aren’t dumb lumbering beasts, we don’t hibernate, and we have taken an oath of protection toward humans. We’re not slaves to our baser natures.”

Ollun looked down his narrow nose at Mason. “Your yowl only minutes ago suggests otherwise.”

Snotty know-it-all
. Mason bit back a snarl. He decided to appeal to the Ollusian’s intellectual curiosity, if he was going to get anywhere with the condescending man. “Fine. Since your bloodline is purer than others, like mine, you may not be affected. I don’t need to tell you what we’ve discovered.”

Ollun’s eyes lit up like two yellow moons. “What discovery?”

Mason shrugged and turned away. “Doesn’t matter. None of your concern.”

“Now wait.” The man leapt from the branch and floated to the ground, the sleeves of his white garment billowing. He landed with hardly a sound, directly in front of Mason. “Does it impact the forest?”

Mason nodded. “Specifically shifters.”

“Is it damaging?”

“Highly.”

“Then I demand to have this knowledge for the sake of our kind.”

“Oh, now it’s
our
kind. How generous of you to sink to
our
level.”

Ollun sniffed. “Not for the desire to, but for the necessity of it.”

“Then you should be aware of the dire implications.”

The Ollusian arched a dark-flecked blonde eyebrow. “Two big words in the same sentence. Now you’re just showing off to impress me.”

“You want impressive?” Mason growled. “My medical team has discovered a rabies strain that kills werewolves. In days.”

Ollun glared. “That’s your news?” He scoffed. “Who cares about them? Good riddance.”

“The strain has mutated,” Mason said with forced patience. “There is no telling how widespread the virus could go. Even your precious birds could contract it if bitten by a species carrying a deadly strain.”

“We are expert hunters.” Ollun’s eyes flashed. “Unlike you ground dwellers, we swoop in and impale our prey before it knows it has become dinner.”

Unimpressed, Mason crossed his arms. “What about snakes that coil around your claws with a strangle hold and get in one last jab with their fangs?”

Ollun shuttered in disgust. “Vile serpents. Our ancient tales suggest they are our mortal enemies in another galaxy.”

“I don’t care about your distant galaxy,” Mason retorted. “I care about the planet we live on and the woods we call home. Fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, vermin—things we come in contact with daily could carry a strain that will wipe shifters off the map.
Within months
.”

Paling to a ghostly white, Ollun peered at him. “That cannot happen. Can it?”

Mason nodded. “It will happen. It’s only a question of when. This strain is targeted. Our wildlife brethren may carry it and not even know until one turns on our kind and bam!” Mason slammed a fist against his palm, causing Ollun to startle. “We’re decimated.”

Looking drawn, and a little less haughty, the owl shifter blinked his wide eyes. “Our own naturally-wild kind could turn on us.” He folded his long fingers and started pacing. “This is most disturbing.”

“Yeah.” Mason huffed. “Welcome to my world.”

When Ollun sent him a droll look, Mason chuckled at his unintended pun.

“What of the purer shifter strains, such as you and myself? Could we be immune?” Ollun asked.

“Not sure. It’s possible, but I doubt it. One of my clan of a lesser bloodline tested the virus on her blood in the lab. The results weren’t bad—they were devastating.”

Finally appearing to grasp the implications, Ollun shook his head despairingly, his long hair skimming his shoulders. A cloud of dismay hovered over his features.

“I have a vial of the strain with me.” Mason glanced in the direction of the cave, and the sudden untamable need to protect Steph slammed into his chest. “I’m taking it to my brother’s post for further investigation. The worst of the strains were found in wolves from the northern trail. But it’s only a matter of time before it reaches our borders.”

“And wreaks havoc on us all,” Ollun finished. His eyebrows lowered. “Who else knows? How have other shifter races responded?”

“You’re the first to get the news. Lucky you,” Mason said without humor, slapping his palm on Ollun’s shoulder.

The owl shifter cringed under Mason’s heavy hand.

“Sorry,” Mason said. “I forgot about the whole hollow bones thing.”

The curl of disgust returned to Ollun’s upper lip. “Do not mistake my interest as an invitation for an ally.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Right. Why would I? You’re so much more advanced, and yet my people discovered the strain. Chew on that tonight, along with regurgitated mouse entrails.”

“You bears are indelicate idiots.”

“You owls are pompous pricks.”

To Mason’s surprise, his comment made Ollun grin. “True. But no one says it to our faces.”

Grinning back, Mason shrugged. “What can I say? Bears tell it like it is.”

“A quality I may come to appreciate. Slowly,” Ollun added with a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You won’t friend me on Facebook.”

The comment drew a puzzled expression from Ollun.

“Never mind. Will you at least accept the ally part of this cooperative? Strategically, we’re better off working together.”

Ollun nodded. “I will speak with my flock, but yes. We are on the same side.” He wrinkled his nose. “I never imagined I would say such a thing to a bear.”

“We’re all shifters,” Mason reminded him. “And you may not care that much, but that bond matters to me. I hope you’ll treat it with the respect I intend to.”

“It is done, then.”

They clasped each other’s forearms in a known gesture to shifters of camaraderie. “Done,” Mason said.

“Before we part ways, may I take a sample from your vial back with me so my scientists can investigate the virus as well?”

“Um…this is seriously toxic stuff. How will you transport it?”

“I’ll empty a container holding one of my potions, of course.”

That gave Mason a second’s pause. Potions? Well, who was he to judge? “Follow me.”

Without a word, they both shifted into animal form to hasten the trip back. Ollun must’ve used his heightened senses to pick up on Mason’s tracks and scent, because he was perched on top of the rocky ledge waiting, by the time Mason strutted up to the mouth of the cave in human form.

“What?” Mason retorted, annoyed by the look of superiority on Ollun’s face.