by T. S. Ryder
But she couldn’t tell her sister that! Andre was a Bear, monsters according to what they had been taught–and had he not just almost killed her? To say he was her soulmate would be even worse than admitting that she had made love with a man without marrying him!
Before Mary's thoughts could send her spiraling back to the events that had taken place, she heard a signal howl. Their brother Peter's voice, demanding a response. Her head jerked up and she cupped her hands around her mouth.
"Here!" she shouted, still unwilling to leave her sister's side. "Help!"
Moments later, two Wolf faces appeared among the trees. They disappeared again, and moments later two men strode into the clearing, glancing warily around. Their bare torsos gleamed in the dim light, pale and muscular, fine curls of dark hair on their chests.
Mary's heart jumped to her throat as she recognized her brother Peter, and their father. She shrank back from them, her face flushing as a wind reminded her of her nakedness. She tried to hide her breasts with an arm, but she could not adequately cover herself while keeping Julia upright.
"Here."
Cloth was thrown at her, and the two men slipped away through the trees again. Mary shook out the cloth and found that they had been given two shirts. That would explain why Peter and her father both wore trousers but were shirtless.
She helped Julia dress and then pulled the shirt over her own head. It was tight on her and the one on Julia was baggy. The buttons at her breasts would hardly do up and left gaping holes that revealed copious amount of skin. The sleeves were so tight she thought the seams would pop, but it was better than nothing.
"We need bandages," she called. "Julia is badly hurt."
Her father entered the clearing again. He had always been an intimidating figure, something Mary had been proud of as a child. But as he glared at her now, she shivered. She pressed her lips together, trying not to let herself be cowed. Her shoulders straightened.
"Father, I will accept whatever punishments you see fit to put on me, but Julia is badly injured. If I am unable to treat her injuries and get her back home at once, she could die."
"Peter," her father called over his shoulder.
Her brother's Wolf appeared again, holding his trousers in his mouth. He dropped them at their father's feet, keeping his tail tucked firmly against his belly to preserve his modesty and made a small yipping noise. He melted into the shadows.
Mary pulled the trousers over both her and Julia's lower regions, which she had hoped were already hidden by the way they were hunched over. Her face burned hotter though she tried to focus on Julia rather than her modesty.
Paul Locke knelt beside his daughters, his large rough hands probing Julia's leg. She winced, and Mary's mind flashed to the birth of the little lamb. How gentle Andre's massive hands were. She remembered his fingers light on her skin, sensing his touch more from his warmth than anything else, and a pang hit her heart.
Not right now, she told herself.
Paul rocked back on his heels. "It's broken. Can you embrace your Wolf?"
Julia shook her head. "I'm too weak."
"Then put on these clothes and I will carry you. Mary, you may use the shirt you are wearing as bandages. Embrace your Wolf and find me when you are done."
"Yes, Father," she replied automatically. She didn't look at him as he slipped through the trees.
It was easier to tear the buttons off than struggle to undo them, and Mary used her teeth to shred the heavy cloth. Julia's teeth were chattering by this time, and Mary worked as quickly as she could, wrapping the broken leg so it would not be further damaged before it could be properly set.
"Mary?"
"Yes?"
Julia's voice was dazed. "Where were you? We thought you were dead. You just disappeared. We found the car in a ditch. We thought you'd frozen to death."
"I… it's a long story." A lump formed in Mary's throat. "Just try to rest, okay?"
"But where were you? And how did you know I was here? And why did that Bear listen to you when you told it to stop?" Julia's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Mary's wrist, holding her far tighter than someone so obviously malnourished should. "Why did it listen to you, Mary?"
Mary stared back at her sister and didn’t know what to say.
Chapter Thirteen
The scent of vehicle exhaust burned the air, even from within the motel room Andre sat in. It was plain, but it was clean and neat. The neutral color palate soothed his aching head. The rumble of traffic on the highway outside was unceasing, but Andre welcomed the confusion of the noise.
His fingers ached, and dried blood pooled at his cuticles from digging in the frozen ground. He hadn't finished the job. His animals were still lying out in the elements, rather than being properly buried. But he couldn't go back now.
His joints were stiff as he stumbled to his feet. He'd run the whole way to the city, not even going back to his farm for his truck, and then sat in the darkness of the motel for several hours since. His right ankle didn't seem to be working properly. Gingerly he rotated it, wincing as he heard a soft popping noise. Once he slept he'd be fine. Bears healed quickly.
The water from the bathroom tap tasted disgusting, full of chemicals and minerals, but Andre gulped it down. As he stared in the mirror, he shuddered at what he saw there. The curved scar on his cheek, given to him by Paul Locke, reminded him of how he had very nearly killed a young girl for nothing she had done.
I am a monster and I can never go back.
His heart ached to have Mary in his arms, but he was stronger than his desires now. He would not let himself be blinded by love or hate. It was too dangerous. His attack on the girl had been close to the werewolf community. They would be safe with their family now.
Andre prayed that the girl's injuries were not too severe, and Mary would walk away from her restricting family again. She was strong. He knew she could do it.
But he'd never know if she did. He could never go back to see. As he stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes hardened and his fists balled so tight his knuckles turned white. He had made his choice of revenge over Mary, and there was no taking back that choice. He had no right to ask her to come back to him, and even if she wanted to, he couldn't let her.
"I can protect her from me, if nothing else," he whispered aloud. "I will never put Mary in danger again."
***
Paul Locke opened the door to the root cellar. A waft of rotten potatoes made Mary gag. Her hand flew to cover her nose, and she stole a glance at her father from the corner of her eye. When they had arrived at the old farmhouse she grew up in, he had not said a word to her. He instead told the rest of the family who ran to welcome her home that she was tired and needed rest.
Julia was taken to her own room, and the little ones were pried from Mary's legs by the oldest three boys who still lived at home. Mary had tended to Julia while the doctor was called. Then Mary had been left in her room by herself for several hours until her father appeared at the door and told her to go with him.
Now she watched him, waiting for him to say what it was he was going to say. Paul's face was stoic as he turned to his eldest daughter.
"Mary, your mother and I are very disappointed in you."
Her heart raced. What was he going to do to her? Not only had she run away from home, but she had lived with a Bear. Slept with a Bear. Peter knew that was where she had been these past four weeks. Was her father going to punish her himself, or was he going to involve the whole community?
"I am going to give you a chance to explain your actions. Why did you run away?"
Mary's mind flitted between truth and lies, trying to decide how to answer. The truth would certainly not win her any favor, but he would know if she lied. He always did. She bowed her head. "I was overwhelmed."
"Overwhelmed?" Paul repeated.
"I was working all the time, and I was just tired of it all. I wanted to have time to myself, to be able to read and embrace my Wolf and go running
through the woods."
Paul's pale blue eyes narrowed, and Mary felt small and childish, the way she always did when her father looked at her that way. She found herself unable to meet his gaze, though her hands clenched into fists. She held her breath, expecting, waiting… Maybe if you moved a little faster through your chores you'd have more free time. Maybe if you lost weight you'd be able to move a little faster.
Among the Wolves, she had always felt like she was five times too big. She heard the snickers from the others her age when there were gatherings. And more than once her mother berated her for making herself 'ineligible for marriage' as her waist and bottom expanded. Muscle was only as good as it could be seen. Even though she could easily lift a fifty-pound bag of flour, the fact that the flesh under her arms wobbled was enough to label her weak and lazy.
Paul Locke put a hand under her chin and raised her face to look at him. "Mary, if you were that overwhelmed, why didn't you tell me or your mother about it? Julia is sixteen, we could have pulled her out of school to help you. She's going to marry Conrad Milton soon, anyway. She has no need of more schooling."
Because I don't belong here. Because I hate you for taking me out of school and limiting what books I was allowed to read. I'm twenty-four years old, but under your roof, I'm nothing more than a child or a servant.
Her lips parted and Mary caught herself just before she said it aloud. No, that would only make things worse. "I'm sorry, Papa."
Paul's expression softened and he wrapped his arms around her. Hugs from her father were rare, and Mary instinctively leaned into his embrace, blowing out a ragging breath. She closed her eyes, remembering when she was a little girl and her father seemed like the best man in the world. Perhaps–perhaps she had acted too rashly, running like she did. Perhaps things would be better now.
"Now. About that Bear."
Mary tensed again and pulled away from her father. Her lungs couldn't seem to draw breath and she looked up into her father's eyes. Was he truly capable of destroying Andre's farm? Killing his animals so heartlessly? "What about him?"
Paul's eyes narrowed. "I have spoken to Julia about what happened. You stopped its attack, and when you told it to go away, it did. Do you have any idea why that would be the case?"
It took a moment for Mary to understand. When she did, her heart did a double beat. She fought to keep the relief off her face. Peter hadn't told their father that she had been living with Andre, or that he had come to take her away from the Bear and she had refused. Her father didn't know, and as long as he didn’t know, she would be okay.
"I don't know," she said.
Paul Locke's fingers tightened on her shoulders. "Who is he?"
Despair crashed over Mary as quickly as the relief had lifted her heart. He's my soulmate. But how could she forgive him for what he did, what he had nearly done? The look of hatred on his face when he declared he was going to kill her father, the rage as he attacked Julia…
She shuddered. What if he came back? What if he attacked the farm and tried to kill her father? How could she be with her soulmate if that soulmate killed her father?
"I don’t know who he is." Mary tried to squirm out of his grasp. "Papa, you're hurting me."
"You are too old for childish nicknames," he said sternly. "You are to call me Father, Mary. And if you insist on lying to me, then it is not only your disobedience you will be punished for."
Mary stumbled over her own feet as Paul Locke spun her around and pushed her into the dark, stinking root cellar. Something squished under her foot and she prayed it was just a rotten potato. She turned again. "Father—"
"You can stay in there, thinking about what you did. As if your mother isn't sick enough, she nearly put herself in the grave worrying over you. You are a selfish girl, Mary Locke.”
"It's my own fault for giving you so many liberties," he continued as Mary bit her tongue. Arguing would do no good. "Letting you drive. Letting you read unsupervised books at the library. Giving you charge of credit payments. Did you think I would miss the plane ticket you bought? Think about what you have done, and when you are ready to apologize, you may return to your place in the family."
Mary cried out in protest, but her father spoke over her. "And as for that Bear… I will find out who he is, and if I find you lied to me, it will be all the worse for you."
"Father!"
The cellar door slammed shut, plunging her into darkness. Mary rushed to the door, banging her palms against it. The dark was absolute, and the smell clogged her nose and throat, making it difficult to breathe. She was sobbing before she realized, and sank down to the dirt floor, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Andre," she whispered. "Andre, why did you have to rip my soul in two?"
Chapter Fourteen
Andre stepped from the dark street into an even darker room. Loud, sensuous music poured into his ears from all sides, making his pulse throb with the beat of the drums. It was so loud he had a hard time thinking. Yes, this was exactly what he was looking for.
He found a booth tucked away in a corner and glanced around. Waitresses in high heels and short skirts moved from table to table, handing out various types of alcohol. A mix of perfumes scented the air, drowning out the leftover lavender and homemade bread scent of Mary. A stage was set up along one wall. While dim lights lit the seating area, the stage was lit up in bright reds and blues which caressed the glittering, gleaming bodies that undulated and wrapped themselves around poles.
The women dipped and twisted, breasts swaying and bobbing as hips gyrated to the music. Andre watched, detached. Though the dancers were undoubtedly sexy, they were not enticing. He ground his teeth together, concentrating on them, trying to remove Mary's beautiful body from his mind's eye. He had to erase the temptation to return to her!
He ordered a beer from a waitress. When she was bringing it to him, though, one of the dancers jumped from the stage and snatched it from her. The waitress looked startled, but the dancer grasped her arm and whispered in her ear. The waitress then shrugged and went to another table.
Andre frowned as the dancer approached him. She was different from the others. Bigger. No, that was the wrong term… bulkier. She stood as tall as he did, and her shoulders would be almost as wide. She was almost as beautiful as Mary, but this woman was hard, whereas Mary was soft, perfect for cuddling against his chest.
The dancer set the beer in front of him. She was wearing a tiny, bead-string skirt and nothing else but glitter, which was spread over her neck, naked breasts and down her thighs.
"I apologize for my lack of dress," the dancer said, settling down opposite him. "I wasn't expecting one tonight."
Andre cracked open the beer and raised a brow. "One what, exactly?"
A smile played over her lips. "Trying to be coy?"
"No. I have no idea what you are talking about." The beer was cold, almost freezing as it went down his throat, and he felt it puddle in his stomach, making him shiver. "Who are you exactly?"
"My name is Zoe. And you're saying that you weren't sent here?"
Andre shook his head, bewildered. "Sent by whom, exactly?"
Zoe's brow furrowed. She shrugged as she stood. "I suppose it doesn’t matter. If you weren't sent, you aren't in any trouble. I'll get back to the show now."
Andre watched her buttocks sway as she walked away. There was no denying that the sight was titillating, but rather than having the effect he wanted, a new surge of guilt washed over him. It wasn't bad enough that he had hurt Mary so much already, but now he was trying to forget her after just a day? She deserved more than that! In two gulps, he half-emptied his beer.
Still, he kept his eyes clasped on Zoe, trying to enjoy the way she moved her body. There was a tattoo on her shoulder, a large, red-brown mass. Andre peered closer. It was obscured slightly by glitter, but after staring at it for several minutes, he recognized it as a stylized bear paw.
Odd choice, he thought as he finished off his beer.
As the cold drink hit his stomach, memories flooded his mind. Isadore had the same tattoo on her shoulder. She'd gotten it when she was a young girl as a rite of passage when she embraced her Bear for the first time. It was a tradition among her mother's people, a symbol of her clan.
Andre's throat felt dry as he stared at the glitter-obscured tattoo. He had not met another Bear since his wife and daughter died. Isadore's mother had left long before he had met her; her father said she died, but Isadore suspected that she had just left. Bears were not like Wolves. They were not drawn to each other. If anything, they repelled one another, just as they avoided non-Shifter Bears that they might meet in the wilderness.
His heart pounded as he looked back at Zoe's face. She must have seen the dawning of his recognition, because she stopped dancing again, just standing on the stage and staring at him. She met his eyes and a soft smile spread over her face.
Andre's breath was shallow, and he could think of nothing else. She's a Bear. Like me.
***
The cellar door opened. Mary shielded her eyes from the sudden light. The hinges squealed as the door closed again, taking with it the light. A flashlight flicked on, illuminating the face of her visitor. It wasn't as harsh as the sunlight had been, but after complete darkness for who knew how long, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust before she could recognize her brother.
Peter sat down beside her. "I brought some bread."
Mary gratefully took the chunk of dry homemade bread and tore into it. Her jaws ached as her mouth watered. Her stomach growled loudly, but it quieted by the time she was finished. She leaned back against the concrete wall, the bread feeling heavy in her stomach.
She hadn't gotten any visitors since her father had put her in here, no food either, though she had found a canteen of water. What made it even worse was knowing she was probably going to be the one who had to clean up after her stay. A bucket hadn't even been provided for her toilet.