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Bearing the Hunger (Shifters of Yellowstone Book 2) Page 4
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Nodding, she laid her head on his shoulder while he finished his call. When he hung up, she asked, “So when and where are we meeting for this dinner?”
“He suggested the hotel dining room. It’s his favorite place to eat out. Of course, we ate there already, but it’s easier than going to one of the other restaurants, and they are all starting to shut down for the season.”
“I don’t mind, truly. There is as good as anywhere else.” Standing up, she brushed some dust off her hips. He did the same for her ass. “Hey now.”
“I was only trying to be helpful.”
“Sure, you were.” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “If you keep being helpful, neither of us will get to work.”
“I have requested the day off. I thought perhaps I could come with you on your rounds today. The shower in your cabin is way too small. Give me half an hour to clean up and I’ll be back then we can head out wherever your geologist heart desires.”
Chapter Three
She might not know it yet, but she was his as much as he had become hers. All he had to do was show her his real self. He watched her work. The way she took so much care to make sure she did not damage the fragile ecosystem reminded him of another human who had won the hearts of the sleuth. He could only hope she took the news as well as Quinn had.
How did you sit your mate down and say, Hey, by the way, I also change into a big ole grizzly bear at will. Oh, and if we make love, we are bonded forever. She had blown off the fangs, and he pretended not to notice, but every part of him screamed to bear her mark. Every male shifter lived to wear the mark of his mate. The piecing bite claiming they had found their significant other. As mating was done in human form, females grew a set of fangs in the heat of arousal and, if they chose to complete the mating, they would bite, leaving their mark of ownership. When the mark faded, they could choose the mark again. Every step was in the female’s hands.
“Almost done.”
“Take your time,” he assured her, scanning the gray area of the basin. To someone who didn’t understand the workings of Yellowstone, it appeared dead and unassuming. But the geysers in the vicinity were very active and the ground beneath them fragile. A male bison skirted them in the distance. He’d smelled him twenty minutes ago but had yet to catch a glance of the beast.
“One more after this one,” she said, completely oblivious to the danger of the wildlife around her. He would need to address this with her later. The sounds of her tapping statistics into her industrial laptop echoed across the barren area. “According to this fax, the geyser over there is due to erupt in the next twenty minutes. But could be as long as forty.”
Pretty sure she was talking to herself and not him, he remained silent. He would deter her if she wanted to take a temp reading but, according to the notes on her map, she was hoping to get closer to a thermal feature on the other side. As he had on their other stops, when she moved to put her backpack over her shoulder, he interfered and took the pack himself. “There is a boardwalk about fifty yards over in that direction. It will make the trek a bit longer, but is safer.”
“Fine. I hate having people thinking we are breaking the rules or that they can, too. If there was any other way…” She broke off and stopped dead in her tracks.
Had he not been so intent on watching her hips sway, he would have seen the bison move into view. His tail stood straight in the air, and there was no way they could outrun it. He didn’t plan to shift, but he would if Morgan’s life was in danger. The bison huffed and charged. Only then did Grant see a young bison on the other side of them. Damn it.
“Don’t make any sudden movements.” He eased the backpack off and handed it to her. “When I say run, I want you to get to the boardwalk as quickly as you can. Do you see shelter in the distance? Head there.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you. Hopefully, as soon as we give him space, he’ll calm down.”
The bison huffed again, his attention completely on Morgan, which Grant suspected had to do with her being a human. The bison knew Grant was a grizzly shifter, but the human was not making him happy, and the bison calf wasn’t making the volatile situation any better. “Morgan, run. Now! Easy boy.” He lifted a palm, walking toward the beast, and inserted his body between it and his mate.
He didn’t take his eyes off the two thousand pounds of hair and wool. He heard her feet hit the wood planks of the boardwalk in the distance, and he let out a sigh of relief. The sense of respite was short-lived, though, as the calf cried and made a move toward where she ran. “Damn it.”
The bison’s charge came quick and powerful. Grant knew he had no interest in him but in her. He braced his body for the impact of boney skull and more PSI than he was prepared to deal with. “Stop,” he demanded.
He heard her scream the second before the animal butted him with his head, taking his breath away. He grabbed the horns, hoping to avoid hurting the animal but trying to thwart being gored. “Easy, big guy.”
He twisted the head, intent on flipping the bull if needed. He growled, letting the other male know that as much as he was protecting his young, Grant was doing the same for his mate. The bison relaxed and, as Grant released his grip, the large animal backed up. Grant did the same. They stared each other down until the animal turned and headed back into the trees. The calf ran but stopped when she saw Grant. “Get.” He tapped the calf urging it after the other.
As Grant stepped onto the boardwalk, Morgan ran toward him, touching him to make sure he was unhurt. “I can’t believe you did that. “
“I’m fine. I might have a bruise on my chest where he bumped me but nothing is broken. Let’s get out of here before…” No sooner were the words off his tongue than she screamed, and he turned to see the bison in full charge. They couldn’t outrun the angry beast. Grant threw Morgan out of the way and braced for impact. There was no time to get to safety. The horn sliced his side at the same time Grant pulled back and landed a punch, hoping to rattle the animal’s skull enough to daze him. The next thing he knew, he was flying in the air, and when he landed with a thump, his breath left him and pain unlike anything he ever felt came over him. He got back to his feet, ready to fight again, but the bison retreated. The calf cried again, this time from the woods.
Morgan reached him as the world started to spin. He fought his shift, fought his body telling him to go into healing sleep. She couldn’t support his weight but, worse, he was bleeding and at any moment would lose consciousness.
“I need to tell you...”
“Later. We have to get you out of here. Get you help. You’re bleeding. You need a doctor.”
“No doctor, get…” He crumpled to the ground, trying to keep his eyes open to no avail. The darkness took him, and his last thought, as his bear came to the forefront, was he would never see his mate again.
What. The. Fuck?
Morgan didn’t curse. The occasional damn or hell was the limit to her foul mouth. Somehow, watching the man you were growing fond of turn into a bear before your eyes warranted stronger words than oh my gosh. The strongest and most satisfying word she could think of was fuck.
Red oozed out from under Grant. No, the bear. Shaking, she stepped back. What to do? The car keys were in his pockets, but his pockets were in a pair of jeans that no longer existed. Her brain couldn’t wrap around that. She needed to call someone, but who? A vet or a doctor?
Digging deep into the bag, she pulled out the satellite phone. Dialing the only number she could think of, she waited for her college professor to answer.
“Hello?”
“Owen?” Her voice shook.
“Morgan, is that you? It’s hard to hear you.”
“Owen,” she repeated, breathing in the cold dry air. She sat on the edge of the boardwalk with the large bear a few feet from her, praying someone would come along then praying they wouldn’t.
“Morgan, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Concern laced the older man’s voic
e.
“I’m fine. I think. My friend Grant isn’t, though. He just got gored by a bison.”
Owen gasped. “I’m sorry. Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know he is just lying there, but the bleeding seems to be stopping.”
“Wait, you are still out in the field? Did you call for help?”
She shook her head knowing darn well he couldn’t see it. “Who should I call?”
“Call the park rangers.”
“He is a man. I mean, he was a man, but now he isn’t a man. And I think I am losing my mind.”
“Calm down and put your head between your knees,” Owen’s voice demanded. After a moment, he said, “Is your head between your knees?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, now, tell me in a calm manner what is going on.”
She rocked back and forth, thinking if she didn’t say the words, they wouldn’t be true. She glanced up. Nope, they were still true. “One second Grant was a man, the next, poof, he’s a bear.”
“Say. That. Again.”
“I’m crazy, aren’t I? A man turning into a bear is ridiculous.”
“What kind of bear?”
“I tell you a man turns into a bear, and you ask what kind? A big furry kind that shouldn’t be in the place of a man.”
“Black or grizzly.”
This conversation was not going the direction she had thought it would. Which, to be honest, was getting her checked into a room with padded walls and jackets that allowed her to hug herself all day long. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he’s brown.” All she could see was the big ball of fur at the moment. Her brain didn’t want to function.
“Black bears come in other colors than black.”
“Well, then, why do they call them black bears?” Panicked laced her voice. She didn’t want to think about bear species. She only wanted to get help.
“Morgan, this is important.”
“Grizzly, at least I think he is a grizzly.” Right now, if someone told her he was a beaver, she might believe them.
“Can you see the face?”
“Not clearly.” And she didn’t want to get that close to his face at the moment.
“But he is unconscious?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I need you to go inspect the paw.”
She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it, dumbfounded. “You want me to make a close inspection of his paw?”
“If he is on his side, you should have a good view.”
Pull yourself together, Morgan. You can do this. It’s simply a bear, not some dinosaur come to life. Of course her brain argued that a T-rex was more likely than her boyfriend in this furry state. “Okay what am I looking for?”
“Are the toes close together and in a straightish line, or spread out and curved.”
She tiptoed over to the animal, stupid really then crouched and picked up a paw larger than her head. Placing it down with care, she backed. “It’s straight across.”
“Okay. You’re dealing with a grizzly. A black bear would be easier, but let me place some calls. Give me your coordinates and then stay put.”
She gave him her exact location and hung up the phone. Had she not just seen the man of her dreams become a bear, she might have found the entire conversation with Owen even crazier. He hadn’t been shocked a man turned into a bear. But at least he hadn’t thought her crazy. Grant, at least she thought he was still Grant, gave a grunt of pain, but settled down again.
She wanted to run, but she was worried about him, and the craziest part was she had convinced herself he wouldn’t hurt her if he woke up. Nothing else had been normal in the last fifteen minutes, so his not hurting her made perfect sense. Time ticked on until footsteps approached her at a fast pace. Three large men and a woman arrived at her side.
“Morgan?” one of the men asked as the woman and the other two went straight to Grant. “My name is Hans. My mate, Shauna, is going to take great care of Grant, I promise you, but I need you to come with us. Okay?”
Blinking out of a haze, she shook her head. “I just want to go back to my room.”
“It would be best to come with us. You can call Owen. He’ll confirm who we are.”
“Owen called you?”
“No. Otto did.”
“Who the heck is Otto?”
“Otto is the black bear alpha.”
She couldn’t quite connect the dots. “But Grant is a grizzly?”
Hans smiled. “Yes.”
“So Owen called a black bear to talk about a grizzly?” Her knees buckled. She was vaguely aware of a hand easing her to the edge of the boardwalk.
A female voice in the distance yelled, “Have her put her head between her knees,” seconds before her head was forced down.
“Breathe, little one.”
I am breathing, she wanted to yell but realized she wasn’t. So she kept her head down, which blocked out the image of the large bear still on the ground and in need of help.
“How are you…” She lifted her head about to finish with planning to move him when the other two men lifted the large bear. Only then did she realize one of them was the man she had bumped into a few nights ago. “Never mind. You seem to have it under control.”
“Do you think you can walk, or shall I carry you?”
“You are joking.” She placed a hand on her forehead to block the sun from her eyes as she tilted her head back to gawk up at the tall man.
His lips pursed and brow furrowed.
“Okay, you weren’t joking. I can walk…I think.”
“Perhaps taking my arm will work.” The other man smiled down at her, white teeth in sharp contrast to his dark-golden-brown skin. “If you stumble, no one will notice. I promise.”
“Are all of you the size of redwoods?”
“If you are asking if all of our kind are tall, then, yes.”
“I really am getting a kink in my neck.” She stood tentatively on legs not as strong as she had hoped. Before she could reach for her backpack, Hans flung it over his shoulder and led them away. “I’m parked in the other direction,” she protested.
“We will have someone come back for your vehicle, but, right now, we need to get Grant home and you seated. I don’t believe you are in any shape to drive.”
She hated to admit it, but he was correct. She could barely walk. And she belatedly remembered she didn’t have the keys, anyway, which forced her to sit again with her head between her knees. She was only thankful her lunch had remained in her stomach thus far. By the time she reached the parked Jeep, she could barely control her shaking limbs. Suspecting the shock had begun to wear off, she was heading into full-blown freak-out mode.
“Do you want to ride with Grant?”
“No.” Her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears. But a small voice in the back of her consciousness, or maybe it was her soul, screamed yes. Yes, she wanted to be with him no matter what shape he was in. “Grant turned into a bear.”
Hans helped her into her seat. He positioned her, even clicked her seat belt on, as if she were a small child. He didn’t say anything about her statement, and perhaps there wasn’t anything to actually say. He pulled out, following the large SUV with a bumper sticker reading I Brake for Bears. “Funny bumper sticker.”
“Shauna has quite the sense of humor.”
“She’s your wife, I think you said?”
“Mate. My kind doesn’t do wives. We have mates.”
“So you are a…”
“Shifter, bear shifter to be specific, just like Grant.”
They could have been talking about how many miles to the gallon he got for as calmly as they conversed, but they weren’t; they were talking about things of myth. Shape shifters, skin changers, morphs…none of those were real. She shook her head to clear it. “So are all bears shifters?”
“No, just as not all bison are. Otherwise, that one wouldn’t have charged you.”
> “He charged Grant.”
“Not likely. I would bet when Grant wakes we will discover he put himself between you and the bull.” Hans reached over and squeezed her hand. “But this isn’t your fault. No man would have let their mate be hurt. He did what he needed to.”
“But I am not his mate.”
“Perhaps not here.” He tapped her head then pointed to her heart. “But, in there, I think you know better. Every time I slow down and there is a little space between the two cars, you hold your breath. You became edgy when a car pulled between us and blocked your view. Can you deny it?”
Could she? Had she even known she had done those things? But, as if to prove his point, he slowed way down. The radio in the car beeped then a voice came over. “Knock it off, Hans.”
He chuckled and lifted the receiver. “Don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Dammit. Every time you put distance between us, Grant becomes aggressive. Shauna says you don’t want to answer to the beta if her mate is marked by anyone but her.”
The car before them shook a little as if someone was climbing around inside.
“Hans, do it again and I’ll kick your ass from one side of Yellowstone to the other.” The commanding voice she assumed was that of their leader.
Hans sobered. “Sorry, Alpha.”
They waited for something else to be said. When it wasn’t, Hans replaced the receiver onto its hook. “You can deny it, but Grant knows it.”
They rode in silence for the rest of the trip, and she didn’t even question when she found three ATVs waiting for them when they exited the Jeep. The largest had a trailer attached to it. Grant was moved, motionless, to the metal flatbed. The one they kept calling Alpha approached.
“Morgan, let me introduce myself. I’m Brutus.”
“We…bumped into one another the other night in front of the hotel.”
His eyes seemed to see her soul. “So we did. Please understand my concern at the moment is for my scout. Though he is stable, his injury is serious.”
“What can I do?”
“Would you please sit near him? It’s harder to follow closely in the woods, and he is calmed by your presence.” When she hesitated, Brutus continued, “He won’t hurt you. Ever. He would take his own life before he would lay a paw on you.”