by Cecilia Lane
Old Man Strathorn’s retirement from the fire department came with retirement from the clan clearing. He shoved himself off to a cozy home on the outskirts of town with enough land to keep him occupied with hunting and fishing when he wasn’t caring for the town in his capacity as Mayor. But all that land was summertime dry and ready to burn.
Nolan spotted the smoke before they reached the driveway. So did Callum, who pushed the engine just a little faster.
Organized chaos took hold of them as soon as Callum pulled to a stop.
“Inside!” someone shouted. Nolan glanced and found Louise, Ephraim’s caretaker gesturing wilding toward the burning home.
Hudson jumped out of the engine and rushed to pull the hose into place. Gray worked with him to secure the hookups to water lines.
More sirens rushed toward them. Police. Ambulance. Not quick enough. Not equipped to handle the blaze.
Callum, Cole, Gray, and Nolan charged toward the front door. Fire sputtered at the windows, but there was no stopping the brothers from kicking down the door and searching for their father. Nolan couldn’t find fault in them. He’d done the same thing when Becca’s life was in danger.
Smoke filled the interior thick enough to blind a man. Even with shifter senses, he could barely see his gloved hand in front of his face.
“Pair up!” Callum shouted, no doubt out of habit. Nolan slammed his hand over his alpha’s shoulder and let him lead the way. Gray did the same to Cole, and the search began.
“Fire Department! Call out!”
The order sounded dull and distant amidst smoke and flames.
“Pop! Call out!”
“Here!”
Callum turned swiftly at the call. Nolan spun with him, staying in line and keeping a grip on his shoulder. The smoke was thick enough to get turned around and lost, even in a house.
“Call out!” Callum shouted.
“Bedroom!” Cole answered.
Flames licked up and down the walls on either side of the room Callum led him into. Picture frames had cracked and crashed to the floor. It wouldn’t be an easy journey back out.
Ephraim lay on his side near a window, a shower rod near his hand. His shirt was torn and hung off his shoulders and his pants were ripped, too, as if he’d tried to shift and failed.
Callum didn’t wait a second. “Clear the window. We’ll go through.”
He scooped his father into his arms and pulled him away from the smashing glass. Cole jumped through first and helped Callum over the sill. They waited only until Gray and Nolan were through before taking off toward the fire engine.
“Get the paramedics down here!” Cole yelled.
Hudson and Sawyer spared them a glance. Gray peeled off to help contain the fire before it jumped to the woods surrounding the home. Water doused the roof and walls. Foam created a barrier on the ground.
Callum cleared the engine and gently laid his father on the ground. He started chest compressions. Rhythmic pumps of the old man’s heart followed by a breath of air did nothing to wake him up.
Ephraim didn’t take a breath. His heart didn’t beat.
“Come on, Pop. Come on,” Cole chanted.
“Fucking breathe!” Callum roared and pounded again on his father’s chest.
The paramedics rolled up at that moment. They shoved Callum aside and took over compressions, shouting orders to one another. Their training went beyond the basic medical the firefighters each received.
But no training in the world could save a man already gone.
They heaved Ephraim onto the portable stretcher. One man kept up compressions as the others set the board on their wheeled contraption and folded everyone into the ambulance.
Callum shoved Cole after them. “Go! I’ll stay.”
Nolan watched the emotions play across their faces. A brother being sent to watch over his father’s body. A man letting the responsibility of his position keep him at the scene. He didn’t envy either of them.
Cole didn’t fight. He jumped into the back of the ambulance.
The siren wailed and tires crunched over the ground as they pulled away to take Ephraim to the last ditch efforts to restart his heart.
Twenty minutes, maybe a half hour. That’s what stood between them and losing their father.
Callum stared after the ambulance for a long enough moment that Nolan stepped in and shouted out the next order that needed issuing. “I want extra foam on the ground. We need to keep the fire contained!”
Chapter 15
Ephraim Strathorn’s funeral pyre blazed too bright in the somber night. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the men and women who remained after the majority of the crowd faded away into darkness. Most would stay until the fire burned itself out.
The entire town and many from outside the Bearden enclave arrived to pay their respects. Ephraim was a giant in his life, they called him. Someone who couldn’t be replaced. A pillar in the community.
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. It sure as hell didn’t offer him protection in his later years. His mind still faded, and he’d still died in a fire.
Nolan curled his fingers into his palms and welcomed the bite of sharp claws. He held back his bear—just a fraction of an inch less control and he’d be tearing out of his suit and loping into the woods to mourn the man the only way he knew how. He wanted to tear and bite and rip.
Ephraim didn’t need mourners and a big gathering. He deserved justice.
There’d been no scent to follow after the flames were beaten back. No tracks through the land. No more clues existed with this fire than any of the others. All they were left with was evidence of accelerant, another destroyed home, and the loss of a man who improved the lives of everyone he met.
Ephraim’s caretaker—former caretaker, Nolan amended with a grimace—stood to the side of the remaining mourners. She was a big woman. Tall and solid. Her inner boar mirrored in her appearance and her attitude. She’d taken on caring for an aging and increasingly confused bear. She needed to be tough.
At that moment, Louise shook like a leaf.
Nolan watched her blow out a long breath, rustling her bangs, then march over to the Strathorn brothers. She threw her arms around their broad shoulders, looking small in the process. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“No one blames you, Louise,” Cole answered in a defeated tone.
“I saw someone. That’s why I called the police. Someone ran past the back windows. Ephraim was throwing a fit. I couldn’t leave him to track whoever it was. Then the smoke made its way into the living room. He wouldn’t budge. I tried to drag him out.” Her usually serious face broke with a sob. “I’m sorry.”
Red worked up Callum’s face and he disentangled himself from Louise’s embrace. Gold flared in his eyes. He shoved a finger in Judah’s face. “I don’t care if you need to line this entire fucking enclave up and scent them for a lie. I want this bastard found!”
Leah pushed forward and reached for the hand Callum raised. She wrapped her fingers around his, murmuring the whole time. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ll get through this. He’d want to see you strong. No brawling today, remember? Enough blood has been shed.”
Slowly, the fight faded from his alpha. Pain washed over his features. Longing and deep sadness filled his scent. He closed his eyes for a three-count and the gold of his inner bear bled away.
Nolan wished he knew how to react to the aftermath. Inside events like fires, he knew what to do. There was no time for extended pondering when flames wanted to burn a person down to nothing.
It was the after where he struggled. He needed to act, needed to quiet the unrest in his head. And the after never gave him that peace.
The clan had taken a hit with the loss of Ephraim. The hole the man left would be there for years. Callum had been right from the beginning. If the firebug didn’t quietly disappear, someone would get hurt. No one expected that someone to be Ephraim, and no one wanted to believe the hurt would be as big as death
.
Nolan shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks to cover the scent of blood. He’d pricked his palms with his claws. Even that bit of pain couldn’t shake him into a different mindset.
He was lost. They all were. Ephraim was a father to each of them. A mentor. Their boss. Alpha before Callum. He’d been torn away, and they were all lost.
He glanced across the pyre and caught sight of Becca in the shifting crowd. He ached to go to her and wrap her in his arms. There was no comfort to be found there. She wouldn’t solve his restlessness or ease the hole in his heart. Callum and Cole had Leah and Rylee to hold them together. Becca was the one person who could help soothe his soul, and she wanted nothing to do with him over the mistakes he made so many years ago.
Nolan turned his eyes to the sky and silently roared.
Everywhere Becca looked, her friends were paired off. There was Faith, ducking her head against Tommy’s shoulder. The Strathorn boys both had their arms wrapped around their mates.
Grief had hit them both hard. After Callum’s outburst, Leah curled her fingers into his hand and pulled him back with the rest of the clan. Cole, for all his talk of not caring about anyone except Rylee, hid his wet cheeks and shaking shoulders against his mate. Leah stared grimly ahead, challenging anyone to disturb her man and Rylee let her own tears fall.
As much as Becca wanted to cry and feel something, she couldn’t. Nothing came to her. She felt cold inside, and nothing more. Even her fox had abandoned her, curling her fluffy tail tight around her face and hiding deep in Becca’s mind.
Death was familiar to her. She’d seen too much of it over ten years. She’d caused it herself and killed something inside herself in the process.
Seeing the fire consume a man she respected didn’t register any emotion. Watching her friends find comfort in the arms of their mates pricked at the cold shield, but couldn’t penetrate.
Was it self-preservation? Psychotic tendencies? That’d be a kick to the tits, to know she was truly crazy.
At least then she wouldn’t feel guilty over the darkness that swirled inside her and ate up all her sadness.
The crowd parted and her eyes fell once again on the Strathorns. Sawyer and Gray sandwiched Hudson between them. Those three touched and found comfort with one another, but it differed from the reassurances that followed jokes. Those brushes of shoulders and quick claps on the back said they stood together and would keep supporting each other.
But not Nolan. He stood apart from the rest of them. The mated pairs hung in a clump, the single males kept their vigil, and Nolan stood alone.
That wasn’t the legacy Ephraim would have wanted. He wanted all his boys, his real sons and those who followed Callum into the clan, to lead full lives. Hell, the sentiment could apply to the entire town. He’d certainly done his damnedest to make an impression on everyone he met. He’d succeeded, too, and got himself elected Mayor for the effort.
And there she was, unable to feel enough to properly grieve the man. Across from her was a man who couldn’t mourn with the rest of his clan. She and Nolan could add one more fuck up to their growing list.
He looked as lost as she felt.
She was adrift in a sea of nothing. Her friends had their mates. Clans were forming deeper connections by the second. All while she and he held themselves apart.
So she took a pickax to the dam holding all the bad and ugly emotions at bay. She was tired of fighting against the stream. Chips and fragments of a life weren’t enough. She had to let herself open to everything. She was living her own Pandora’s Box. Under all the things she didn’t want to sift through was a remembered nugget of good.
They used to be good together. When it was light and carefree. Young love. They had that magic that kept them happy. Then they’d really shown their asses and turned stupid. They shut each other out. She’d never forgiven him or herself.
Over ten years, she’d turned lonely. Sad. Broken. She’d worn the cloak for so long that she couldn’t pick apart the individual threads.
She needed comfort from the one man she could trust to make her feel something.
Maybe it was a lapse of judgment. Maybe she was caving. Maybe, after so many months of trying to heal her damage, she’d jumped into the deep end of madness.
Becca wanted what she saw her friends hold between their arms. She wanted to feel tender about another person.
She wanted Nolan.
Her feet were moving even before she registered the decision. Nolan’s eyes widened when she wrapped her hand around his wrist and marched toward his truck.
“What are you doing?” He tugged her to a stop.
Becca glanced over her shoulder. “Self-destructing. Are you going to blow up with me or not?”
Chapter 16
She wanted to self-destruct, did she? Nolan told her before he’d go down with her. He meant every word.
Her scent was curious as it filled the cab of his truck. Thick with a desire that pushed his blood straight to his dick, there was an underlying sadness and hesitation that screamed for caution.
His fingers itched to reach for her. One touch, one test to see how far she wanted to go.
He tightened his hands on the steering wheel.
Nolan eyed the road. One way led back into town and the inn. The other ran straight past the turnoff for the clan’s cabins. His cabin. “Where to?”
“Your place.”
Her pulse sped, and he swore his heart pumped to match that beat.
Becca released her seatbelt and scooted closer. Nolan could feel the heat radiating off her body. He willed her to touch him, take whatever she wanted. He was hers. Always and forever.
Hesitantly, she pressed her hand to his thigh. He slashed his eyes to her and found her watching him. So he gave her his best devil-may-care grin.
“You after something specific tonight, sweetheart?”
“I need...” She paused and searched for the word. Whatever it was she thought she needed, she shoved it away. “You.”
Nolan inhaled and tried to puzzle her out. She might have had a flicker of hesitation, but it vanished. She matched his smile and dragged her nails up his thigh.
“Unless you’re not interested?”
He swallowed hard when she pressed her palm to his cock and squeezed. He glanced at her again with a smirk. “That feel like I’m uninterested?”
He inhaled deeply. She was drenched. And why not? They were mates whether she admitted it or not. His body called to hers just as she did to him. On a primal level, they were a perfect match.
And she was giving him a chance to prove it.
The rest of the short trip to his cabin was a blur of touches and teasing kisses. She worked her way under his skin even more than ever before. And still, her scent swirled around him, thick enough for him to drown in. It wasn’t a death he would hate.
His front door clicked behind him and she whirled. Their eyes connected. Dark brown, the color of chocolate, burned away to a fiery gold.
She took one step backward, and he followed. She moved again, and he stepped forward once more.
He shrugged out of his suit jacket. Her heels dropped to the floor and sank her down two inches.
He reached for her then, unable to keep his hands to himself when her eyes blazed and her curls hung wildly around her face. He cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers.
By the Broken, she tasted as sweet and wild as she looked. He missed how she felt in his arms. That little peck turned into more quickly, and he just as quickly felt himself spinning out of control.
Mark her. Mate her.
Nolan pulled back on his bear. Too many questions needed to be asked. Words needed to be shared. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—tie her to him while she could still resent him. Now was for showing her what he could give her if she would just accept him for life.
But she called to the primal side of him, especially when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dug her nails into his back. His cock
throbbed and his balls ached as her moans turned breathy.
“Becca…” Oh, his bear roared and slashed at his insides. He was surprised the beast didn’t rip him right down the middle.
“Shut up, Nolan. Just shut up and put your hands on me. I need to feel something right now,” she growled.
But he needed to know. He needed her to want him. He didn’t want to be used the way her words implied.
If that was all she wanted, he still had a long way to go. He wouldn’t do anything she could later turn on him.
He witnessed a man he respected fall to a fire. He watched the mates of his clan step up and keep their men proud and upright during their loss. And dammit, he wanted that. Becca could talk big game about not wanting him, but he would prove to her that he—and only him—was the man she needed. They were made for each other and he would fight for her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him in for another kiss.
He took his time exploring her mouth, even if his head spun and his bear urged him to bite. No fangs. No marks. No mating. Not until she was ready. Not until she asked for it.
He was weak. He had no resistance when it came to her. There was no use trying to put up a barrier between them. She’d plow right through and claim him, just as he wanted to claim her. Heart and soul, she belonged with him. She was all he wanted.
He rocked his hips into her and pushed her steadily back until she hit a wall. He sank against her, dying to feel more of her soft curves against the hard parts of his body. Needing to feel more of her. He nudged his thigh between her legs and nearly exploded when her throaty moan filled his ears.
She was so hot against his leg. So convincing in her kisses.
Then he reached down and wrapped her wrists in his hands to drag them over her head.
He slid his mouth across her jaw and nibbled at her ear. Her fingers tightened on his hands and she danced under him, small noises drifting out of her. So that hadn’t changed. She still went crazy for an ear nibble.