Claiming His Human [Red Mountain Bears 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  “You want a piece of me suckers? Go ahead,” he said, lifting his chin.

  The gray wolf chose that moment to lunge at him. He swung his makeshift weapon but didn’t feel any claws on teeth on him. Instead, he glimpsed something huge letting out a roar. He choked back a cry. A huge grizzly bear chucked the gray wolf aside like the wolf was an insect in its way.

  The other two wolves snarled and went for the bear.

  He sucked in a breath. Was his mind playing tricks on him and the bear was on his side? Yellow pupils flecked with green met his for a second, before the grizzly pawed at the wolf who bit a huge chuck of his side.

  Certainty filled Craig. He recognized those eyes. This bear must be Rick. His mind spun. Rick had gone hunting for him? Relief washed over him as he clutched the branch close. The two wolves didn’t back down, kept snapping at Rick. Rick plunged his claws into the belly of the brown one. The beast went down, bleeding on the forest ground.

  Craig remained frozen to the spot, the violence shocking him. He saw torn human limbs on the ground, as if they were chicken legs. Craig’s stomach heaved, and he wanted to throw up. He swallowed down the bile. This was Rick, the same sexy man he woke up next to that morning. Rick, who got angry for his sake when he told Rick about his past. The only other person who knew about his past trauma was Danny.

  Why he told Rick about snippets of the chapter of his life he constantly kept trying to forget, confused him.

  The gray wolf had recovered, sprinting toward Rick, who had his back turned. Rick looked busy dealing with the other wolf. He dragged himself to his feet. What if that wolf managed to finish Rick?

  Rick might be a stranger to him, but Rick had also opened his home to him. Losing Rick wasn’t an option. With a yell, he used his remaining strength to go after the gray wolf. He swung as hard as he could.

  Triumph surged through him as his blow connected with fur. The gray wolf spun, flashing teeth. The wolf pounced, landing him on his back again, but a huge ebony claw snatched the wolf away. This time, Rick broke the animal’s neck.

  He panted. Both the werebear and he stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Craig couldn’t help it any longer. He sat up, sobbing, and hugged Rick to him. Craig clutched at Rick’s fur, refusing to let go. Rick’s fur felt coarse but warm under his fingers.

  “I’m so glad,” he murmured, beginning to stroke Rick’s fur. He didn’t care if that was appropriate in terms of shifter culture, but it felt right. “You came for me. Thank you.”

  Craig leaned against Rick’s fur before blacking out.

  * * * *

  “Shit,” Rick muttered, crossing his arms, watching the on-call doctor, Garth, check on Craig’s unconscious form.

  Worry ate at him the entire time he carried Craig all the way back to his house and laid the human on his living room couch. Mac had called for Garth instantly. Danny stood next to him, looking pale while Connor squeezed his shoulders in reassurance.

  Mac and Pat remained in the kitchen after Garth told them the patient needed some breathing room.

  “He’ll be fine, no injuries apart from the scratch on his arm as far as I can tell,” Garth said, bandaging up Craig’s arm.

  The doctor looked at Rick, which he approved. So did his bear. He turned berserk after seeing those three wolves gang up on Craig. Only after the fight ended did Craig realize Danny had been watching the entire time. He expected horror to fill the human’s face, but it broke his heart seeing Craig crawl to him and hug him. Most humans would be terrified of being that close to a shifter, but despite Craig’s old fears, he went to Rick.

  “He needs rest. If anything else happens or if he doesn’t wake up, call me,” Garth told Rick.

  “Will do. Thanks for coming on short notice, doc,” he told Garth.

  After the doctor left, he turned his attention to Danny. “You heard the doc. Craig needs rest.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to keep my mate from his best friend?” Connor demanded.

  Rick had a feeling he had a fight on his hands, especially if he growled at his brother, so he tried reason instead. “Look, he’s had a tough night. In the first place, Craig wanted to be away from you guys.” Seeing Danny’s expression, he considered his next words carefully, before continuing, “Come back tomorrow to see how he’s doing. Let Craig rest, okay?”

  Danny bit his lip, then nodded. Danny tugged at Connor’s arm. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.”

  Connor furrowed his brows. “You sure?”

  “Rick’s right. Craig had a hell of a night,” Danny replied.

  “Alright then. We’ll update Pat and Mac,” Connor told him.

  Once the house emptied up save for him and Craig, he examined his little human. There had only been one explanation why he reacted like that, instinctively and without hesitation to protect a human he hardly knew.

  Mate, his bear whispered.

  This time, Rick didn’t correct his inner animal, because he finally understood what his two other brothers felt the moment they found their mates. His bear had known from the beginning Craig was their mate. The man in him had hesitated, wondered if a mate was really for him.

  Nearly losing Craig scared him shitless. Rick couldn’t remember the last time he felt that bone-deep fear. Years it seemed, right when his mother, then father, died, leaving him alone with his brothers. Rick had been terrified he wouldn’t be able to do a good job of keeping his family together.

  He pressed a gentle hand on Craig’s cheek, then tucked a stray strand of brown hair over one ear.

  “Wake up soon, okay? I need to yell at you for running off to the dark woods without considering the feelings of other people.” He was about to head upstairs for a shower, then decided to stoop low and give Craig a kiss on the cheek.

  Chapter Six

  Twelve years ago

  Craig felt something was wrong the moment he noticed the front door remained ajar. He hesitated. Mom kept reminding him and his younger brother Charlie to lock the door. Maybe Charlie forgot. That was so like him. Tugging on his backpack straps, Craig pushed open the door.

  Silence greeted him. It took him awhile to realize something about the space felt wrong. The bad feeling intensified as he walked over to the living room couch and righted the fallen lamp next to it. The magazines from the coffee table, along with the fruit bowl, remained scattered on the carpet, too.

  “Charlie, you ass,” he muttered, dumping his backpack on the couch. Craig grabbed the magazines before his gaze lingered on the crimson spots on the off-white carpet. With tentative fingers, he touched the spots. His stomach did strange flops. Those looked like blood.

  He let out a nervous laugh. For all he knew, it might be paint. After all, Charlie loved putting his watercolors on everything. He shakily rose to his feet.

  “Charlie? Where are you? We’re going to have a talk about leaving the door open, and did you spill paint on the carpet?”

  When he received no response, he called Charlie’s name again. No answer. Then again, Charlie might have his earphones on. Just because Craig was two years older, and Charlie was the baby in the family, didn’t mean Charlie could act spoiled all the time.

  Craig went to the room they shared, froze when he spotted more of those droplets on the floor. A different kind of fear gripped him.

  “Charlie?” he whispered, jumping when he heard a shuffle in their bedroom.

  Oh God. He recently heard about the news of someone breaking into an apartment just two streets away. Could they have an intruder in the house? Help. Craig needed to call the cops or something. Craig looked for the phone in the living room, swallowing when he saw the wire had been ripped out of the wall, and the phone? It lay in a few dozen broken plastic pieces on the ground.

  How could someone break the phone that easily?

  There wasn’t time to run out and call for help. Old Mrs. Fernandez was probably napping by now, and the Johnsons were always out.

  Scared his brother was in trouble, he
ran right into their shared bedroom. Panting, he looked around, only seeing blackness. Why was it so dark? Did Charlie yank all the curtains closed? The door slammed shut behind him.

  Craig jumped, backing away when he saw the glowing yellow eyes looking right at him. His sneakers made a squelching noise. He stepped on something wet. When he took another step back, he stumbled, falling on his ass. The smell of blood hit his nose, now panic set in. The smell of his piss filled the air.

  The monster let out a horrid sound. It took him a few seconds to realize the thing, whatever it was, had been laughing.

  Craig gripped the closest object he could find. At that moment, the light between the curtains shed some illumination, and he screamed, realizing he’d grabbed what looked like a human leg. He still recognized the blue converse sneaker hanging onto that foot. Charlie’s favorite.

  He dropped the leg, backing away until his back hit their shared bunk bed. This must be some kind of nightmare. That was it. Charlie and he been watching horror shows on his computer at night, when their mom thought they were sleeping. Why, just last night, they watched this creepy Korean show that had no subtitles but scared them both shitless.

  That was right. Charlie was alive. This was a bad dream he’d wake up from soon, except that creature suddenly spoke.

  “Your little brother had such little meat on him. Come a little closer, human. I’m still hungry for more,” the monster said.

  Craig screamed as the monster appeared in his line of sight and flashed sharp, inhuman teeth.

  * * * *

  Present

  Craig jolted awake, throat hoarse from screaming, only to realize he wasn’t in that darkened room scattered with his brother’s limbs. He was no longer twelve-years-old, but an adult, nestled in warm blankets. He looked around his strange environment unable to process where he was, until he saw the framed photographs on the shelf in front of the couch.

  Couch. Right. He was lying on the couch. Craig saw he no longer wore his shirt and jeans, but boxers and his favorite sleeping shirt. Someone had tended to his arm, too, because it was bandaged.

  “Safe,” he whispered. “Just a dream, you idiot.”

  The events of that night came to him. He wanted to find a hole to bury himself in. Right. Craig ran off to the woods after a heated argument with Danny, only to be attacked by wolves. Rick had to go in and save him. He remembered hugging Rick in bear form, then nothing.

  Jesus Christ. Did he faint?

  Footsteps pounded on the stairs and Rick appeared, only a towel around his hips. Rick looked like he came from the shower, because droplets of water still clung to his buff frame.

  Oh, Craig thought, the old nightmare fast disappearing from his mind as he beheld the gorgeous male specimen right in front of him.

  “What’s wrong? You hurt?” Rick demanded. The werebear flicked his gaze over him, then around the house. Rick flared his nostrils, pupils turning into a brilliant shade of green and gold. “I don’t smell anyone else in the house.”

  Unable to help himself, Craig stood, the blanket falling off him, then walked up to Rick and hugged him. It turned out hugging a man was a lot different from hugging a huge furry animal. Both man and bear were warm, but God, pressing up against all those delicious muscles felt good, too.

  Rick didn’t yell at him like he expected, only put his arms around him and hugged him back. The werebear started stroking his back, which calmed him down. He rested his chin on Rick’s broad shoulder.

  “I was having a nightmare, that’s all,” he murmured.

  Those bad memories seemed distant now, especially when trapped in the heat of Rick’s body. The werebear felt so solid, able to anchor him to reality. Rising on tip-toe, he wanted to wipe that concerned look on Rick’s face. He brushed his lips against Rick’s, liking how Rick settled his hand on the back of his head and took over.

  A jolt of electricity went to his chest, his groin. His dick thickened as he parted his lips slightly only for Rick to thrust his tongue down his throat. Rick slid one hand down his belly, past the waistband of his jeans, and give his prick a squeeze. He moaned when Rick released him. Seeing that golden gaze, his heart hammered against his chest.

  “Tell me to stop, and I will. You’ve been through plenty tonight,” Rick told him. “But I won’t ask again.”

  No, he didn’t think a man like Rick who was, in every definition of the word, an Alpha, would only ask him more than once.

  “Yes. I want this, and I’m not just telling you that after my near brush with death. I went to tonight’s dinner for the chance to talk with you more, but I got sidetracked,” he admitted. It felt good, telling Rick the truth. “Look, I’m not good at this stuff, but didn’t you feel something when you kissed me this morning?”

  Rick watched him with those intense eyes and eventually said, “You’re injured. You need rest.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Sure, I ache in some places, but it’s not like it’s going to impede sex. Please,” he added, “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

  Craig wasn’t usually this needy, but then again, he didn’t know when he’d get the chance to snuggle close to his werebear again. Wait. His werebear? Rick wasn’t his anything yet. True, Craig didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Maybe he lied a little about his recent scare with death not affecting him, but if there was one thing he learned tonight, it was living his life with no regrets.

  Rick let out a sexy little rumble that hardened his cock and, seeing how thin his boxers were, Craig knew Rick saw the woody he sported. Not that he was hiding anything.

  “Upstairs,” was all Rick said.

  They managed to climb up the stairs without incident. By the time they stumbled inside Rick’s room, Rick jerked him close for another kiss. His insides practically melted as Rick took his mouth slowly this time, as if they had all the time in the world.

  One tug of his shirt and the fabric ripped. He let out a shaky breath as Rick released his mouth. He gripped the werebear’s biceps. Rick raised one eyebrow.

  Craig found his tongue. “That was kind of hot, but don’t rip any more of my clothes, okay?”

  “No one gives me orders.” Rick’s voice sent a shudder down his spine. “Don’t worry, little human. I’ll make you feel so fucking good, you’ll end up screaming my name.”

  Rick wore that feral look again, one that told Craig that by the end of the evening, Rick would claim his body. He reached for the waistband of his boxers, slid them all the way down, and gave Rick a shy smile. Rick gave his chest a push, and he landed on his ass on Rick’s feather-soft comforter in answer.

  His heart hammered as Rick undid the towel, revealing the monster between his legs. He sucked in a breath, already imagining what Rick’s dick would feel like, buried in his ass.

  “Scoot up the bed,” Rick ordered.

  Oh, he liked that. Craig didn’t usually like bossy men, but he’d make an exception for Rick, especially when said werebear promised to give him ecstasy. He obeyed, laying flat on his back only for Rick to join him. The werebear placed his hands on either side of Craig’s head, keeping his weight off Craig. A sweet gesture.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Rick might look all rough and grumpy on the outside, but he had a soft side, too, a part he had a feeling Rick didn’t often show to anyone else. He felt special, eager and excited to find would happen next.

  Chapter Seven

  Rick took his mouth again, all roughness and bite. Craig began to reach out, to touch the yummy hard expense of Rick’s body, but the werebear caught his wrists and pinned them above his head. He didn’t mind Rick taking charge. Rick planted kisses down his neck, seemingly obsessed with the spot between his shoulder and neck.

  The werebear let out a little growl, before moving lower, taking one of his nipples into his mouth and sucking on it. He groaned as Rick left his bite mark there, then worked his way back to Craig’s mouth. Rick kept both of his wrists in place with one hand and used the other to give his di
ck a few tugs and pulls. He moaned when Rick tore his lips away from his, panted as Rick stroked him a few times, then left him hanging by dragging his fingers lower.

  He squirmed when Rick reached his puckered entrance, but the werebear only stroked the edges, teasing him. His dick had turned from half to full mast now.

  “Please,” he whispered, all too aware Rick’s gaze remained locked on his. It was as if the werebear wanted to see every emotion on his face.

  His past experiences with sex had been horrible. The men he’d dated did a few pumps inside him before coming without ceremony. It gave Craig the impression sex was always quick, fast, and dirty, certainly not this.

  “Tell me what you want,” Rick said, breath warm against his ear.

  He blushed.

  “Don’t be ashamed of what you’re thinking about. Tell me,” Rick coaxed.

  “You inside me,” Craig murmured. “Please.”

  Rick grinned. “I like that word. Hold on a sec.”

  Rick got off him and fumbled for the drawer next to the bed. Seeing the shifter grab the lube, it struck Craig this was finally happening.

  “I don’t have condoms. We shifters don’t catch anything,” Rick told him.

  “I’m clean. It’s not like I’ve been with anyone recently, either.” Craig blushed again. That made him sound a little pathetic.

  Rick joined him in bed, eyebrows raised, as if he didn’t quite believe Craig. The werebear stroked his thigh back and forth, the contrast of his rough and callused fingers amazing against his skin. He moaned as Rick gave his dick a squeeze. “I have a hard time believing that,” Rick said.

  “It’s true. I work so much, I barely have time for a personal life. Sure, I go to some parties, but that’s the inevitable part of the lifestyle. I never enjoyed myself. I told myself to be there to make connections.” Craig didn’t know where that came from and why, when it came to Rick, he could be honest. It felt refreshing, nice even to have a confidant. He cleared his throat and continued, “I’m sorry. I’m babbling, aren’t I?”