Bron’s phone chirped and he frowned at the screen before answering it. “What do you want?”
Everyone was talking, and she couldn’t make out the conversation across the tiny speaker, but Bron’s look darkened and he turned his back on the room and strode for the kitchen.
It must be hard to be alpha of such a big clan. He probably never got a rest. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad being a submissive at the bottom of the pecking order. At least she didn’t have to bear the responsibility of people’s lives depending on her.
“Breshia,” Bron clipped out. “Come here.”
Nervous flutters filled her stomach like bat wings. The laughter and chatter in the room died to nothing as she hunched her shoulders and followed Bron into a guest bedroom.
“It’s Shira.”
Just the mention of her name dropped the bottom out of Breshia’s stomach.
“She wants to talk to you.” The hard planes of Bron’s face said he wanted this about as much as Breshia did.
She took the phone just as Dillon entered and leaned against the wall nearest the door.
“Hello?”
“You surprised me, Breshia,” Shira growled out. “I never in a thousand years would’ve called you growing the balls to run away. The game is up now, and I’m tired of playing. Come home and your punishment will be less severe.”
Dillon’s eyes blazed with fury and the air became thick and hard to breathe. Apparently bears could hear just as well as lion shifters.
“I am home.” Damn her trembling voice. Breshia swallowed and tried to sound stronger. “I’m not part of your pride anymore, Shira. I belong here, with my mate.”
Shira’s laugh was cruel and loud enough to hurt Breshia’s ear through the phone. “Be serious. What is your plan? Live outside of the pride? Where do you see yourself in ten years? Alone and surrounded by ten bear cubs, with no pride to help you raise them?”
“I’ve seen how the pride raises children, Shira,” she said, as a bolt of anger lashed through her chest. “If I wasn’t there for your cubs, they’d be left alone to take care of themselves. You aren’t fit to help me raise children. If, and when, I choose to have cubs, I’ll be raising them with my mate.” She drew her gaze to Dillon, then Bron in turn. “I’ve seen the care the people here give to their cubs. That’s what I want. That’s what I see in my future. I’m sorry, Shira, but nothing you say would make me ever come back. I’m a Hells Canyon shifter now. Best you let me go.”
“Let you go?” Shira’s voice had gone low and dangerous. “Let one of our only breeding females go? You’re throwing away the honor of saving your people from extinction. The honor of your cubs being raised by the pride, as we’ve done for hundreds of years. You’re the biggest disappointment.”
With every battering word, Breshia’s stomach clenched a little more. Sinking onto the bed, she absorbed what she was really doing. For her own happiness, she was forsaking her people. She was damning them to extinction.
“I’m going to kill him, Breshia,” Shira hissed low. “I’m going to kill Dillon McCain as your punishment, and I’m going to make sure you live a long, fruitful life repopulating our kind at the hands of Thomas. I’ll make sure you know that his death is on you. His agony will be on your hands. I will not rest until the pride bleeds him. I swear it on Samuel’s life.”
The line went dead and Breshia dropped the phone onto the bed in horror. Shira was insane. She’d always been extreme in her opinions and prejudice, but this was different. This wasn’t some idle threat she wouldn’t follow through with. This was a deadly promise, no matter how it hurt the pride. Every instinct Breshia possessed said Shira would burn her own people to exact vengeance.
She lifted her shocked gaze to Dillon. Strong and tall, with his arms crossed over his chest and his stormy blue eyes studying her closely. She loved him, adored him. He was the most important thing that had ever happened to her, and now, because of her choices, she’d put him in the crosshairs of the pride.
Her devotion to him wasn’t a gift after all.
It had sentenced him to death.
Chapter Eleven
“Stop,” Dillon drawled.
Trees and brush passed the window of his pickup, but they weren’t what Breshia saw. Her mind swirled around the thought of Dillon, pale and bleeding, laying beneath the pride’s accusatory gazes.
She was breaking apart inside.
“Shhh,” Dillon crooned, rubbing her leg as he turned onto an overgrown dirt road.
She hadn’t realized she was sobbing. She’d done that a lot since yesterday. She’d gone years without being affected by anything or anyone. No cruel words had managed to wrench a single tear from her since her teen years, and now she just felt…everything. Every word, every touch, every kindness Dillon’s clan had shown her. Maybe she’d been stronger than she thought when she lived with the pride. Now, she couldn’t stop feeling. She was open, like a gash in a mountain, bleeding river water from the melting snowcaps above.
Dillon pulled to a stop in front of an old bridge, much too rickety to hold the weight of the truck.
“What is this place?” she asked, sniffling.
“It’s called Wrenn Dobbin Ditch. The water’s too cold to swim in right now, but I always wanted to take a girl here when I was in high school.”
She laughed and wiped her eyes with an old, threadbare T-shirt he’d handed her from the back seat. “So you thought day two of us being mated was the time to get it on at your chosen make-out point?”
“Well,” he teased with a grin, “if I’m going to die soon anyway. Kidding,” he said, dodging a swat. “I actually wanted to show you something. Stay there.”
She stifled a smile as she watched him jog around the front of his truck. For a big, dominant bear, he sure did seem to enjoy pampering her.
He opened her door and offered his hand to help her down. Then he zipped up her jacket and slung his arm over her shoulder. A thin trail led down a steep embankment, and when they were under the bridge, he moved some dead, tangled brush away from a fallen concrete column. He lay down on the widest part and held out his arms until she was tucked against his side and staring up at the underside of the bridge with him.
“You have trouble letting me in about your time with the pride, and that’s okay. I can wait. But someday, I want you to trust me enough with your secrets.” His voice had grown quiet and somber. “Then I thought that maybe you have trouble because you don’t know me yet.”
She lifted up and rested her chin on his ribcage so she could watch his face when he opened up to her.
“This was my place when I was a kid. I used to have a journal stored between those two pillars over there. I came here when my parents fought.”
“Did they fight a lot?”
His chest heaved upward as he propped his arm under his head and looked at her. “My dad did. My mom and I didn’t. He didn’t like women too much, and he didn’t like me for sticking up for Mom.”
“I’m so sorry, Dillon—”
“Don’t be. I’m telling you this because I want you to realize that everyone has shit, Bre. Everyone. Yours is worse than some, but you have me now, and I like listening. I like hearing about where you come from, and what makes you you. I like to learn about what has molded you into this sweet, caring, loyal, intoxicating woman. And you came into your own despite the carelessness of your people. That’s strength. We have one life. Every minute you spend allowing them into your head, you give them more power than they’ve already demanded from you. You’re wasting time.”
She filled her cheeks with air and puffed it out slowly as she rested her cheek against his chest. “I feel like I’ve known you a long time, Dillon McCain.”
He stroked her hair gently and stared at the creaking bridge above. Sunlight filtered through the cracks, striping everything.
If she could choose a moment to stay in for eternity, this would be it.
“I don’t want you to live scared, Bre.” His voice rumbled
through his breastplate against her cheek. “You don’t have to be. You’re safe with me. You’re safe here, with the clan.”
“I feel more scared now than ever,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“Now I have something I can’t live without. Before, it was just me and a sad life. No one would miss me if something happened to me, and maybe I wouldn’t have missed anything or anyone either. But now…” She cuddled closer. “Now I have you.”
“Shira won’t hurt me. Her threats were just her way of getting in your head. She wouldn’t risk her entire species coming into our territory and challenging second in the clan.”
Breshia frowned at the wooden beams above. “Second?”
“I have one challenge left with Aaron, but I’ve already bested him four times in four different fights. It’s almost done. Our bears are just taking their time figuring out who is more dominant. I’ll be named Bron’s second by next week.”
She jerked away and stared down at him to make sure he wasn’t kidding. “I didn’t know you were important to the clan.”
He huffed a laugh and looked at her with his eyebrows lifted high. “Thanks.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Everyone is important in the clan. Even submissives. We couldn’t function without them. They give dominants something to defend—something for our bears to care about.”
“What are you doing with me?” she whispered, shocked.
“Exactly what I want to.”
“You’re second to a legendary alpha, Dillon. Even I’ve heard about the Cress alphas, and you’ll be Bron’s right hand man now. And you chose a broken lioness as your mate?”
“Well, when you put it that way, what was I thinking?” He dodged her pinching fingers and rolled off the pillar. His booming laughter filled her with such warmth and she chased him. “I take it back. I’m too important to be mated to a submissive.” He bolted for the gravelly bank.
She was giggling so hard she could hardly breathe as she ran after him. Turning, Dillon ducked around her and she threw her arms around her middle and laughed harder than she could ever remember doing.
He stood straight and the smile dipped from his face.
“What?” she wheezed.
“I like the sound of your laugh.” He approached slow and brushed the hair out of her face.
“I like you,” she whispered.
He looked down at her with such tender affection. “I can tell. You’re open with that stuff.”
“Is that bad?”
“No. You don’t play games with my head. You’re good about reassuring me you like being around me. I never thought I’d find someone like you.”
“Me either,” she admitted.
“Oh, you never thought you’d find someone like you either?”
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, then nipped his bottom lip. “You know what I mean.”
His eyes grew serious and stormy as he searched her face. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to let me tease you. You know, after all you’ve been through.”
“It’s going to take a long time to feel…right. But I already feel different than I did. And now I have something to motivate me to be better. You deserve a strong mate, Dillon McCain, second to a Cress alpha. I want you to be proud to have me on your arm.”
He cupped her cheek and angled his face. The blue in his eyes pooled with honesty when he said, “I already am.” Slowly, he leaned down and tasted her lips.
She melted against him as time dragged by. It could’ve been seconds or minutes, she didn’t know. Time didn’t have meaning when she was surrounded by his strength like this. Maybe he was right. She couldn’t imagine Shira hurting someone so strong, so confident. He wasn’t a submissive like her. He was strong and dominant, and battle-tested. He had to be to climb to second in the clan. It was easy to think Shira’s threats were empty when her mate was kissing her, and swaying side to side with her in a slow dance near the place he’d never shared with anyone else.
Breshia had been tested by the fates, and now she was being rewarded with this man. Nothing else could explain how she got so lucky with him. He couldn’t know what he’d already done for her, but she would spend the rest of her life making sure he knew just how important his kindness had been to her.
His warm hand slid up the back of her sweater, creating trails of heat where he touched her. The wounds Thomas had given her were already closed up, thanks to her ability to heal quickly, but they were still tender. Dillon seemed to know this and skirted them altogether. With a practiced snick, he unfastened her bra and slid his palm to her front, cupping her full breast on one side and tugging softly at her nipple until her knees locked. His jaw worked as he kissed her deeper, and when he pulled her closer, she surrendered completely. He took over everything. It was impossible to fear the future when Dillon had the ability to draw every coherent thought from her body.
With a soft, content sigh, she sank back onto the pebbly beach with him. “Dillon?”
“Hmm?” he asked, unsnapping her jeans.
“I love you.”
He froze and eased back enough that she could see his slow smile. “I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you tell me when you rub your face against mine,” he rumbled. “That’s what it means, right?”
Dipping her chin, she nodded.
Slowly, he leaned forward and brushed his clean-shaven jaw against her cheek, then worked his way to her other side.
Her chest filled with waves of warmth and happiness as he silently declared his feelings for her. She’d never thought she would find a love match, but here she was, in the arms of a man she was growing to love more deeply than she thought possible.
Her hips bucked in reaction to his erection bumping her leg, and she clutched onto his shirt. Desire blazed through her so fast, it made her stomach feel like she’d jumped off a cliff. Her fingers shook with desperation to rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling, and the only way she could do that was for Dillon to cover her. Now.
A whimper wrenched from her throat as she fumbled with the zipper on his pants, and he murmured, “Okay, kitty. I know time’s up.”
His lips crashed onto hers as he yanked on her clothes. He wasn’t even fully unsheathed before she rubbed her hips against his in desperation to be as close as she could. His teeth grazed her lip as he pressed on top of her and slid into her wet heat. He didn’t withdraw right away. Instead, he lifted up on tensed arms and watched her face as he rocked gently.
Already, she felt better. Her stomach settled under his adoring gaze, and as he pulled back and rammed into her again, she arched her neck and closed her eyes. Dillon’s rhythm built slowly, but he didn’t hold back like he had the other times he’d coupled with her. He wasn’t gentle this time, and she was glad. She stretched around him, accepting all of him as he slammed into her, slowly at first, then faster and faster. His pants still clung just below his hips, but she didn’t care. Running her hands under his sweater, she pulled him down until his chest rested on hers and enveloped her in the warmth she’d come to crave from her mate.
Dillon growled out her name as her bucked into her. Pressure, tingling and burning for release, filled her slowly, and she raked her nails against his back as her shuddering orgasm ripped through her.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, arching his back under her nails and exposing the thick cords of muscle in his throat.
He froze for a second as the first jet of warmth shot into her, then gave her a few more quick thrusts as she pulsed around him and cried out.
Dillon collapsed beside her and drew her body flush with his, draping his leg over her as if he instinctively knew the chill was biting into her bare legs.
“Logan says we need to eat after we’re together,” he murmured in a sleepy voice as he stroked her hair.
She nuzzled closer. “You asking me out on a date?”
There was a smile in his voice when he answered.
“I am, woman. We’re doing this all backward, but what do you say?”
A purr vibrated her throat and he smiled down at her.
“I’ve never been on a date,” she admitted as soft heat spread through her cheeks.
“Good.” He inhaled a long breath and pulled her tighter against him. “I like being your first everything.”
She couldn’t tell him now, because her emotions were threatening to overwhelm her again, but she was glad no one had showed interest before. She was glad no one had asked her out or wanted to bed her. She got to share these important moments with Dillon—her mate.
Her purring grew louder and he chuckled, the sound vibrating softly against her face.
And slowly, he leaned down and brushed his cheek against hers again.
Chapter Twelve
“Do I look okay?” Breshia asked. She wasn’t preening. She just really wanted Dillon’s honest opinion on whether she was dressed appropriately for the dinner at Muriel’s house.
“You look beautiful, now stop fidgeting. They’ve already accepted you. Be yourself and they’ll like you even more than they already do. I promise.”
She smoothed the wrinkles from the green sweater Dillon had bought her in town one last time and lifted her chin.
“That’s my girl,” he said, throwing the gearshift into park.
A fire pit with a blaze was set up in front of a cozy cottage. The lights from the house illuminated the front lawn making up for the cloud-covered moon. It was a one-story, and small like Dillon’s house. The surrounding woods were filled with nocturnal animal sounds and early spring birds chirping back and forth as they settled in for the night. It seemed like the perfect woodland retreat for a pair of shifters and their new baby.
Samantha and Bron pulled up beside them in Bron’s giant, jacked-up black pickup. Samantha waved as she hopped out with a covered dish.
“Oh my gosh,” Breshia breathed. “Were we supposed to bring food?”
“No,” Samantha said, hooking an arm in hers and leading the way toward the couple who sat near the fire pit in lawn chairs. “I just brought some peach cobbler for desert. Muriel doesn’t like cooking.”