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Son of the Cursed Bear (Sons of Beasts Book 1)

Page 5

by T. S. Joyce


  He couldn’t go back to Damon’s Mountains, but he didn’t like Nevada’s name on Vyr’s death list.

  Couldn’t go, couldn’t stay.

  Cursed.

  Nox was knee-deep in quicksand, as usual.

  Chapter Six

  Dear Nevada Marianna Foxburg,

  Your presence is requested at the formal welcome dinner for Nox Fuller on the second day of December. Formal attire is recommended. I’ve included a dress should you need one.

  1010 Briar Way

  Be there at six o’clock sharp.

  Nevada flipped over the card, but it wasn’t signed anywhere. “W-who sent this?” she asked the delivery guy who was holding a large box and vase of red roses.

  “There’s no name on the ticket, sorry,” he muttered.

  Awkwardly, she took the flowers and box from him, nearly dropped the box, then recovered just barely with the thing smashed against her hip. She offered a toothy smile like a weirdo and stumbled inside. Oh! She turned and followed him a couple steps as he made his way down the walkway from her apartment to the parking lot. “Thank you,” she said in a barely audible voice. She was such a chicken.

  Frustrated with herself, she set the gifts down in the entryway of her apartment and shoved the door closed. Nevada untied the shiny red ribbon on the white box and lifted the lid. Inside was a black satin dress, and when she looked at the tag, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. It was the right size and everything. It looked expensive. Who the heck sent her this? She would’ve thought it was a fox match, but the note had mentioned Nox. Maybe it was from his friends.

  Delicately, she fingered the edge of the soft satin. She should go if it was for Nox. It was only fair because he was going to come to dinner tonight. Hmm, surely she didn’t have these happy flutters in her stomach at the prospect of seeing him again.

  He must’ve talked about her to his friends. A grin stretched her lips. That was a good sign. She wondered what he said about her. It must’ve been nice things if his friends wanted her to come to dinner.

  But…

  She couldn’t go to dinner with strangers. Already, she was fighting a panic attack over eating dinner at the country club with her family, and she’d known them since birth.

  But…

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to meet new people if Nox was there. He was mouthy and protective, and he probably wouldn’t mind if she hid behind him the whole night. No one was scarier than the Son of the Cursed Bear. She would be safe. Safe, safe, safe. Her smile stretched bigger. Maybe he liked her. Right? That’s what meeting his friends meant. He liked her.

  A long, angry honk sounded outside. That would be her brother, Jack, and his mate, Fanny.

  Nevada stood and smoothed out the wrinkles from her fitted dress, shoved the letter into her purse, and sighed as she opened the door. Let the nightmare begin.

  Jack honked again as she was locking her door, as if he couldn’t tell she was coming. If she was a brave girl, she would’ve flipped him off like her sisters did when they were annoyed, but Jack and Fanny were mean and would make tonight miserable if she gave them any attitude.

  “Finally,” Jack said as she slid into the back seat.

  “Um, I could’ve driven myself.”

  In the passenger’s seat, Fanny twisted around to look at Nevada. “Your brother and I wanted to ride with you so we could have some alone time before dinner.”

  “Okaaay.”

  “You see, we have invited someone for you to meet. Well, you know him, but he has agreed to consider you for a pairing if you exceed his expectations. What do you say to that?” Fanny always talked to her like she was a child.

  Exceed his expectations? “I would have to say polite decline.” Because she never met anyone’s expectations, much less exceeded them. And also there was Nox.

  Fanny continued as if Nevada hadn’t spoken. “Darren would be the perfect match for you because he’s older and failed to make a pairing—”

  “Darren? He’s twice my age, and he’s made pairings just fine. Three of them. He just didn’t keep them.”

  “He’s very well-off, and your life wouldn’t be so sad if you had someone to share it with and had babies.”

  “You and Jack don’t have babies.”

  “Yet. We are in our first year and not rushing because we are so happy where we are. But you could benefit by giving a man offspring and attaching him to you. Make it hard for Darren to leave. His other mates failed to do that, but he’s desperate now. He needs heirs.”

  “You think he would be a good match for me because he’s desperate?”

  “Well…yes.”

  A slap. That’s what it felt like—a slap. Was Nevada so valueless that she could only be attractive to a man twice her age who was desperate for kits? Did she not matter at all? Only her ability to procreate? Fanny was still talking, but there was a roaring in Nevada’s ears and she couldn’t breathe. “Stop.”

  Fanny was now talking about Darren’s job and his fancy house.

  “Stop,” Nevada pleaded louder. “Please.”

  “Listen to her, Nevada!” Jack bellowed much too loud for the tiny car. “I’m sick of watching you sit pathetically in the corner at every family event. Everyone is paired up and happy, and then the second you enter the room, you deflate all the fun. It’s like you’re surrounded by this fog of misery, and you drag everyone’s mood down with it.”

  “It’s not misery. It’s social anxiety.”

  “Excuse,” Jack said, flicking his fingers. They were almost to the country club, and a big part of her wished she could open the door and escape to walk the rest of the way there. Jack was driving too fast, though.

  “Everyone thinks you should pair up with Darren,” Jack said. “Everyone.”

  “I’m bringing someone to dinner tonight,” she blurted out. Her cheeks caught fire, but she forced herself to sit up straight in the back seat. “He’s very cute and my age and nice to me. And he isn’t desperate.” Her words tumbled end over end, spilling from her lips before she could chicken out.

  “Who?”

  “His name is Nox.”

  “Nox?” Fanny asked, tossing her a disgusted look. “What kind of pedigree could a man named Nox possibly have.”

  “No pedigree. I don’t care about that.” She sounded shaky but was sticking up for herself, and she was kind of proud of that. For strength, she pulled the note from Nox’s friend out of her purse and clutched it against her stomach. He liked her. He’d told his friends about her.

  “Nox the fox,” Jack said with a snort. “What unoriginal parents named him?”

  Fanny giggled. Jack chuckled. When Fanny laughed harder, Jack followed suit until they were both belly laughing.

  Jerks. Nox was a badass name for a badass grizzly shifter from Damon’s Mountains, not a wussy fox like Stupid Jack and Stupid Fanny.

  “Well, your name means ‘butt,’ so who should really be laughing?”

  Jack slammed on the brakes so hard she lurched forward and hit her forehead on the back of Fanny’s seat. He twisted around and grabbed her hair before she even had time to settle back against the seat. He yanked it hard and growled, “Listen here, you ungrateful little bitch. Fanny went to great trouble to find you a pairing. Do you know how many males rejected you just on your name alone? Dozens, but she didn’t give up, and she found Darren, and now you’re making fun of her name?”

  Nevada winced and ducked her gaze. “You’re hurting me,” she whispered.

  Jack released her hair and shoved her head back hard. “Good. Think twice before you try to be clever again, sister. The den hates you. Best you don’t make enemies of your family, or where would you be? Marked with shame, without protection, all alone, and rogue. You would be nothing more than dragon food.”

  Holding the aching side of her head, Nevada shoved her door open and got out.

  “Get back in the fucking car!” Jack yelled.

  “I’m going to walk,” she said meekly, he
r gaze on the road under her heels. She was trying hard not to cry, but her eyes were burning and tears were threatening to spill to her cheeks.

  Jack hit the gas so hard his tires spun out and left her in a trail of burnout smoke as he sped away. She coughed and waved her hand in front of her face, and now her eyes were burning from tears and smog. She should’ve ignored Jack’s calls all week about riding together and just taken her own car. At least it wouldn’t be a far walk. She could see the turnoff for the country club from here.

  With a frustrated, tiny human growl—because her wussy fox was holed up deep inside of her shaking and whining—she took off her heels, lifted the hem of her dress, and made her way up the road, ignoring the three cars with her family inside that refused to pull over and offer her a ride the rest of the way.

  Her head still hurt where Jack had pulled her hair. He’d always done that when they were kids too, when he didn’t like something she did or said. He’d never grown out of the bully phase, but really, that was how most of the den acted. Kindness wasn’t a popular virtue, and so Nevada was left on the outside from yet another character flaw.

  Her feet hurt by the time she made her way up the winding road and past the golf course a half an hour late. Maybe Nox was already here and could be a buffer when Mom and Dad got onto her for her irresponsibility—as they did anytime she was thirty seconds late or more.

  But when she made her way inside the grand room where everyone was sitting for dinner, she didn’t see Nox. An awful feeling hit her in the gut like a punch. Maybe he’d come and gone, or maybe he was standing her up. That last part felt right.

  Mom looked mad from her seat at the biggest table near the wall. She and Dad always sat on the ends of the great table like a king with his queen. Mom waved her over with a curt, two-fingered gesture, then jammed her finger to an empty seat next to Darren. Crud. She wanted to cry again, and one last time, she searched the crowd and the tables, but Nox really wasn’t here.

  Of course he was standing her up. She was just Nevada—uninteresting, anxious, and submissive. And he was built like a bodybuilder, so handsome and tattooed and funny, and a dominant grizzly bear shifter to boot. He had no problem talking to people, he was seventeen levels out of her league, and everything was lame. How silly she’d been to get her hopes up like this.

  Feeling dejected, she made her way to her seat and sank into it, wishing with everything she had that she could press her back into it hard enough that she could disappear completely for the next three boring hours. She fingered the soft satin of her flowing dress and huffed a humorless laugh. She’d even matched the black fabric to the black and white plaid shirt he’d said he was going to wear. How stupid could she be?

  “Hello, Nevada,” Darren said from beside her. “You’re looking very healthy tonight. Have you lost weight?”

  Gross. Someone kicked her under the table, and she yelped. Across from her, Fanny gave her a filthy look and jerked her head toward Darren.

  “Um, no, I haven’t lost weight.”

  Darren frowned and leaned toward Fanny. “You said she was working with a trainer.”

  “She is,” said a deep rumbling voice behind her. “A sex trainer. She’s been wearing me out. You’re a vodka girl, right?” Nox asked, setting a pair of shots on the fancy cream and gold table linen next to the wine glasses.

  The entire table went silent and froze, probably because Nox was dressed in mid-thigh cut-off shorts, a white T-shirt that read Bone Ripper across his tightly puckered nipples, and was he wearing…?

  “Are those baseball socks?” she whispered, pointing to his yellow and white knee-high socks.

  “Why, yes they are.” Nox straightened his spine and placed his hands on his hips. He twisted this way and that like he was stretching his back, but it made his dick bulge against the seam of his shorts. She was pretty sure the head was going to poke out the bottom at any moment. He looked like he’d been in a brawl. Although the left side of his face still sported green half-healed bruising, her attention kept drifting back to his crotch.

  “What are you doing here?” Darren asked loudly.

  “Currently? Currently, I’m here to eat caviar and snails and try to get into this one’s pantaloons.” He gave Nevada a sexy-boy wink. “She’s playing hard to get, though. Skootch, mother fucker,” he said to Darren, flicking his fingers at him. “I need to pull up a chair. Are you using this?” he asked loudly to the table behind them. “No?” he asked when they just stared at him like he had three heads. “Great.”

  With a screeching sound, he pulled the chair across the wooden floor. The entire room got quiet and turned to stare. He flipped it around and slammed it down beside her too hard, then gracefully and slowly lowered himself down beside her. He was invading Mom’s space, and if she hadn’t looked like she was about to breathe literal fire on Nox, Nevada would’ve laughed.

  “Um, everyone?” she whispered, tinking her fork against a wine glass. “This is my friend Nox. Nox, this is Darren, Peter, Julia, Juliette, Frank, Toby, my dad, Brutus, Gabriella, Donner, Cassie, Brantly, Sarah, Brie, Tanner, Sawyer, Leslie, Jack, Fanny, and my mom, Darla.”

  “Your name’s Fanny?” Nox asked her sister-in-law. “Like a butt?” He scrunched up his face. “That sucks.”

  Nevada tried not to giggle, truly she did, but she’d said the same thing earlier, and Fanny looked so mad right now.

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” Mom said, her voice trembling with fury.

  “Your face is getting really red,” Nox observed. “Not good for the blood pressure. Heart disease is more prevalent in women than you’d think, and it’s best if you keep calm and—”

  “Shut up,” she said, slamming her open hand on the table. One of the wine glasses fell over, but it didn’t break, thank goodness.

  Nox reached forward and grabbed a shot, then handed it to Nevada with a wink. “New drinking game. Let’s take a shot every time alpha mom loses her shit today.”

  Stunned, Nevada took the shot from him and then startled when he tinked her tiny glass with his. She didn’t even want to see her family’s angry glares, so she tossed the shot back with Nox, then gestured to her dress. “Um, I tried to match you.”

  “Next time I’ll get you a pair of baseball socks, too.” His eyes were such a vivid blue as he gave her a sexy smirk. “My dad told me to wear them for good luck, and he said girls like guys in short shorts, so…you’re welcome.” He leaned back and checked his crotch. “I think my pecker is gonna play peekaboo at some point, so keep an eye on it so you don’t miss the show. Why were you late? It was super boring sitting at the bar watching your family talk about stock markets and hearing about some girl named Candy who slept with half the eligible bachelors. I don’t think Peter is your match because he ripped a gnarly fart like four seconds before you sat beside him.”

  Mom choked on the water she’d been sipping, and Nevada pursed her lips against the loud laugh she really wanted to give. “H-his name is Darren,” she corrected him, “and ew.”

  “Right? I would’ve waited until at least the fifth date for that kind of grotesque behavior.” Nox deepened his voice and said the last two words in a hoity-toity tone, and now Nevada had to put a whole lot of effort into not laughing.

  “I can hear you, you know,” Darren said. “I’m right here, and I did not…pass gas.”

  “You look sexy as fuck in that dress,” Nox said, his gaze twitching to Nevada’s cleavage and back to her eyes.

  “R-really?” she stammered through a shy smile.

  Nox’s blazing eyes dipped to her lips and held before his cheeks swelled with an answering smile that made her stomach do weird flip-flops. Beard and all, he was stunning when he smiled.

  “I know you,” Darren said with a frown in his voice, “don’t I?”

  “No one knows me. There’s really snails on the menu.” Nox pointed to the escargot appetizer. “You wanna share some? It sounds disgusting, but try everything once. We should share all our foo
d so we get to try more.”

  “You want to share food with me?”

  “Woman, I shared my nachos with you yesterday. We’re practically married. Do you want the duck or the sea bass or both?”

  “Both?”

  “Good choice.” When a four-string quartet began playing elevator music, Nox leaned back in his chair and looked at the band. “This is my jam.”

  “Can you go now?” Jack asked rudely.

  “Sure. I wanna take this little hottie-with-a-body around the dance floor anyway.”

  Her sister, Leslie, snorted. “I know you’re not talking about Nevada.”

  Nox gave Leslie the dirtiest look Nevada had ever seen on a man’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “There isn’t a dance floor,” Mom gritted out.

  “False, you can make any patch of flooring a dancefloor,” Nox said, resting his arm on the back of Nevada’s chair and stroking her arm gently with his thumb.

  Could he tell she was having trouble breathing? What Leslie had said embarrassed her.

  “Look,” Nox said, pointing to the carpet beside mom, “a dance floor. Oh, and over there?” He pointed near the quartet. “Another dance floor. There’s like a hundred of them in here. Seriously, Leslie, what did you mean by that comment? You don’t think Nevada’s hot?”

  “Do you?” Jack scoffed.

  Nox pointed to his short shorts. “Boney McDickerson says yes.” As a not-so-quiet aside to Nevada, he said, “Your family’s awful. Do you wanna dance?”

  “Ummm,” she said shyly, looking around. “No one else is dancing.”

  Nox shrugged a shoulder up to his ear and grinned. “I don’t care what other people are doing. I want to touch your waist and hold your hand and move with you. Most of all, I want to get you away from here because you’re worked up and uncomfortable. Your family isn’t that nice, and my animal wants heads to roll right now. We can take a break, laugh a little, get a drink at the bar, and come right back if you want. I gotta give the beast a break, though.”

  Okay, all that actually sounded amazing. Nox stood like he could see the agreement in her smile. He bowed magnanimously and offered her his hand like she was a princess. And when she slid her palm against his, he kissed her knuckles gently. It would’ve been romantic if he wasn’t flipping off Jack with his other hand. Or maybe that made it even more romantic; she didn’t know about these things.

 

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