by Vonna Harper
The same held true for Songan.
“Are they dead?” she asked when the silence weighed on her.
“No,” Songan said.
Too much. She couldn’t absorb any more than that, and yet she sensed she’d soon have to.
Maybe understanding her turmoil, Songan lowered himself to his knees. Taking the hand Ber wasn’t holding, he brought it to his mouth and breathed warm moisture onto her fingers. Her pussy tingled.
“We found both of them,” Songan continued, looking over at Ber. “I went after the second shooter, the one who fired after Ber took off. He hit me.” He touched the lump on his forehead. “I charged.”
“Oh.” What a stupid thing to say. “Of course you did. It was his life or yours. Thank God he wasn’t a better shot.”
“I didn’t give him time.”
Much as she needed to know the details, she first had to get the bigger picture. “Ber? Let me get this straight. As soon as you shifted, you headed after the man who shot out the window.”
“Yes.”
Was his short response as simple as Ber being the strong, silent type? Much as she needed to believe he’d acted on instinct, his expression said it went deeper than that. She thought about standing so she could wrap her arms around him and offer him comfort and her body, but not only might the gesture turn into more than comfort, Songan had hold of her other hand. She settled for leaning forward and running her lips over Ber’s forearm.
She started to straighten when he too knelt. Barely believing what had just happened, she acknowledged that the two most macho men she would ever know were on their knees inches from her legs.
Thank God they were alive and safe.
“Songan, you charged the one man. Did you injure him?”
“I don’t know. He no longer mattered.”
“Just like that?”
Releasing her fingers, Songan bracketed her left knee with both of his hands. “I was an elk then. I did what instinct demanded.”
“What—about his weapon?”
“Destroyed.”
Was this really happening? Unlike the vivid erotic dreams she’d been having recently, this was reality. Songan and Ber had come face to face with evil and conquered it. Left the vanquished in no condition to cause any more trouble. More than that, the shifters had touched her in ways she’d never been touched. Had sex with her. Remembering those electric moments, her core swelled, loosened, let go.
As one, the men’s gazes ran from her face to the join between her legs. She knew they’d smelled her response.
“I’m not going to apologize. It’s beyond my control.”
Ber’s hold on her hand tightened. Much as she didn’t want to call attention to the fact that he was hurting her, she tried to pull free. He briefly held on, then relaxed. Despite his growing bulge, his eyes still looked haunted.
“What is it?” She ran her tingling fingers over his cheek. “Please tell me.”
He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You get turned on, it does the same to me.”
“Me too.”
Much as Songan’s admission needed to be acknowledged, Rane kept her attention on Ber. She’d seen the same expression looking back at her in the mirror after learning her mother was dead. “What did you see?” she asked. “What happened?”
Ber started to pull back. Scared and determined, she clamped her hand over the back of his neck in an attempt to hold him in place.
“Don’t keep it inside, please.”
He told her then. Lost in his too-vivid words, she mentally pictured the three sad carcasses his grizzly sense of smell had led him to. Even with emotion forcefully stripped from him, she sensed his horror and understood his desire for revenge.
“You said they’d been cut open,” she managed when he fell silent. Even though she already knew the answer, she had to ask. “What was taken?”
“Their galls.”
Oh God, Mom, did you see—
Horrified by the unwanted thought, she closed and then opened her eyes. Looked around the cabin without seeing it. “Nothing else?”
“As far as I know, no.”
Ber and she stared at each other while the ramifications of what had been done to the bears slammed into her. “Galls are worth hundreds of dollars to the right market.” With every second, she felt more sick to her stomach. Was there no way she could hide from the possibility forming in her mind? “A reason to kill. At least that’s what the poacher believed.”
“Nothing justifies what I saw.”
There was the emotion Ber had been trying to force down. With the bear shifter’s fury growing, she wondered if he’d killed the man after all but hadn’t wanted to tell her.
Awareness of her physical response to Ber and Songan continued to make its impact, but even if they initiated sex, which she didn’t believe they’d do now, she’d tell them to wait. Did they guess what she was thinking, that her mother’s murder and the bears’ deaths were connected? Maybe the same rifle or rifles had brought down the young elk.
“Where is the man you went after?” she asked Ber.
The men exchanged a glance. “After I knocked him down and Songan destroyed his weapon, I let him up,” Ber said. “Let him run.”
“Into the forest,” Songan continued. “Unarmed with night coming and the storm continuing.”
“He’s going to die out there. They both are.”
“Maybe.”
Obviously Ber didn’t care, not that she blamed him. Just the same, she was a compassionate and caring woman who’d never wished a slow and painful death on anyone, not even a ruthless bear poacher. Or did she?
Confused and conflicted, she got to her feet and walked to the opposite side of the room. Then she forced herself to face the men. She’d shared her body with them, taken everything they had to give and hopefully given them what they needed. They’d both fucked her and left themselves imprinted on her. It couldn’t get any more intimate than that.
But, damn it, she couldn’t condone what they’d done out in the storm.
Or could she?
Mom, am I thinking crazy, letting everything get away from me?
“How would you feel if it was you?” she asked, falling back on the woman she’d been before her mother’s murder. “Think about it. Put yourself in the men’s place. It’s getting dark.” She thought about pulling the blanket aside to make sure but didn’t. “Your clothes aren’t enough to keep you warm. You’re disoriented. Maybe injured. You’re afraid you’re going to die, but it’s going to take a long time. Is that what you want for those two, is it?”
“You don’t understand,” Ber said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ber’s eyes were thick with more than had already been revealed. So were Songan’s. She wanted to run, to go back in time, to throw herself at them and beg them to make love to her, anything but this. And yet it had to be done. “Tell me.”
“They also killed your mother.”
The strength left her legs, and she started to collapse. She was only vaguely aware that Ber had caught her and was carrying her back to the bed. Depositing her on the side, he settled himself beside her. Songan sat on her other side.
“How do you know?”
The explanation took longer than the one about the bears had. Hearing that they’d come to their conclusion thanks to their animal senses had her wanting to insist they couldn’t be sure, but they were as much animal as they were men—maybe more.
If they believed her mother had shed blood near the cave, who was she to tell them they were wrong? After all, law enforcement and searchers had concluded that Jacki had been brought to where her body was found. Now, thanks to the two shifters, the pieces had fallen together.
“The tracking dog didn’t find anything,” she pointed out, not that it made any difference.
“It rained, remember,” Songan said. “Rane, I wish I didn’t have to tell you this but—”
“I wish you didn’t either.”
Songan sighed. “We found the kill spot.”
Kill spot. Much as she hated hearing the words, she was used to Songan’s direct ways. Besides, she’d guessed what the truth before the explanation came.
“The whole time we were returning to the cabin, we tried to find a way to make it easier for you,” Ber said.
“You did. I wasn’t doing much thinking.”
Ber touched Songan’s shoulder. “You did for a short while. Long enough for us to communicate what we needed to.”
Songan’s puzzled expression faded to be replaced by comprehension. She wished she knew more about what had happened, but that would have to wait. Right now the only thing that mattered was her mother’s murder had been solved.
“At least you have some answers,” Ber said. “A lot more than you did before you came here.”
Grateful for his insight, she squeezed his knee. He covered her hand with his, and just like that, she remembered what it was to be a woman. As sensual warmth infused her, she leaned against Songan’s shoulder and then Ber’s.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “Knowing what happened to Mom is better than not.”
Situated the way she was, she couldn’t see the men’s expressions but didn’t need to. Songan’s thoughts were on her one hundred percent. He cared only for her emotional health, wanted nothing except for her to be at peace.
Because of what he’d found in the cave, things were more complicated for Ber. In some regard, he would have to go through the same grieving process she had.
“We’ll tell Gannon as soon as we get back,” she said. “Let him know everything.”
“We don’t know who the men are.”
She felt removed from the two who’d tried to kill her, Ber and Songan. For now, the men who’d shot her mother and three bears—more than three—were nothing more than faceless images.
Trapped in the storm.
Ber shrugged. “Someone won’t come home, or if they do, they’ll be in bad shape.”
“Good!” she blurted. “He—they—deserve it.”
Ber chuckled. The sound wasn’t quite human. “Nature is the great equalizer.”
Struck by his wisdom, she again bumped his shoulder. “The good guys won today.”
She didn’t expect him to offer her a high five. The conversation was too sober for that. Still, she loved having said what she had.
“Justice,” Songan muttered. “Maybe that’s what it all comes down to.”
It was more complex than that, she acknowledged as the shifters’ heat seeped through her. They were big, powerful, at home in the wilderness in ways she could never be. Despite that, the more time she spent with them, the more like them she was becoming.
For elks and bears, life sometimes boiled down to killing or being killed. Neither creature had much to fear in the wild, yet they saw the basics of life and death every day.
“What are you thinking?” Ber asked.
“I’m not sure.” Yes, she was. “Maybe I’m putting my own spin on things because that’s what I need to, but I think Mom would find gallows humor in what’s happening to them.” Her throat tightened, then relaxed. “She couldn’t do anything for the sow and her cubs. She couldn’t save her own life. But nature is exacting its own justice.”
Leaving the bed, Ber walked over to the door and opened it. Winter rushed in. “The storm isn’t letting up.”
Trapped.
Shut up in a small, cozy space with the shifters who’d changed her.
“There’s food in the backpacks,” she said, even though she didn’t care. “And someone left whiskey.”
Songan’s body touched hers. She felt him everywhere. Ber’s hand was still on the doorknob, but he’d soon return to her.
“I’m still feeling overwhelmed,” she admitted. “There’ll probably be backlash, but right now I’m kind of numb.”
“Are you?”
Determined to face Ber’s question, she met his gaze. “I feel more alive than I have since Mom—that isn’t numb, is it?”
“You accomplished what you wanted to. Got to the truth of what happened to her.”
“I couldn’t have without the two of you.”
Ber nodded. “What happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your job in Alaska.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you might not go?”
Confused, she told him she didn’t want to leave until the criminal investigation had been completed. In addition, she had her mother’s estate to deal with. “Her place is well built, but it needs some updating before I can put it on the market. I’ve tried to get started on that…”
Leaning forward, Songan stared at the floor. “If this was my cabin, I’d make it bigger.”
“A lot bigger,” Ber echoed. “With more windows.”
“And space to move around.”
Listening to the men, she silently thanked them for changing the subject. “A bigger bed,” she offered. “King size.” Room for three.
Standing, Songan touched her waist. She thought he intended to help her get to her feet. Instead, fisting her shirt hem, he drew it over her head. The heat from the woodstove brushed her newly exposed breasts. Her nipples hardened.
As he joined Songan and her, a sound that made her think of a bear slipped out of Ber. He tackled her jeans. Seconds later, she stood naked before them.
“Stand there.” Songan pointed toward the wall where the window had been. “Let us look at you.”
Elk weren’t predators. They didn’t stalk. Just the same, his eyes on her held her in place. It took all her strength to lift her arms enough to brush several strands off her face. Holding on to self-control with all her strength, she turned her attention to the bear shifter. He might be new to her forest, but he belonged here. This wilderness accepted him.
Barely aware of what she was doing, she cupped her breasts and lifted their weight. Offered them to her lovers.
“Will this be enough?” She looked at Songan and then Ber. “One woman for both of you?”
The storm pummeled the cabin’s exterior, and the burning logs snapped. Except for those ordinary things, her world was silent. Ber and Songan studied each other, but she couldn’t make sense of their expressions. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. One or the other, not both? Could she live like that?
“We’ll make it work,” Songan said at length. “There will be times when I can’t be around.” He nodded at Ber. “When only he’ll be with you.”
“And times when the Enyeto need me.”
“And times when you need me,” she whispered, “To care for your kind’s male babies.”
“You’re saying—”
“Maybe.”
“You can do that? Give them up when they need to learn what it means to be shifters?”
The thought of handing a child she’d cared for and fallen in love with over to someone else made her heart ache and yet— “If that’s best for the child, yes.”
“Not a child; a bear shifter.”
Too complicated! More than she could comprehend tonight. Looking down, she studied her uplifted breasts. “This is where I am. As far as my thinking will go.”
“I’m not interested in thinking. Or speaking.”
Watching Ber shed the clothes he’d recently put on, she wondered if he had any idea how magnificent he was. His pubic hair was as rich and dark as what was on his head. No weights-filled gym could produce muscles like his.
“Your turn,” she told Songan. She was surprised she could speak.
“You’re ready for this? After everything that happened today—”
“You got shot, not me.” She indicated the lump on his forehead.
“I’m fine.” He cupped his jeans-hidden cock. “Is this what you want?”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t, that the horror of it all—I just want to be. I need things simple. Intense.”
“A break from reality.”
Not long ago
, Songan had been bothered by his reasoning limitations while in elk form. Now he was more than making up for it. Determined to let him know how important his words were to her, she stepped into his space. Despite her less than steady fingers, she unsnapped and unzipped his jeans.
Fortunately he then took over while she stepped back and watched. To her way of thinking, deer were more graceful than the heavier, bulkier elk, and yet Songan’s every move was exquisite. Too slow but exquisite.
When Songan’s nudity matched Ber’s, she didn’t compare them, barely gave it a thought. Instead, doing what maybe didn’t matter to them, she retrieved a box of matches from the catch-all drawer and lit the candle she’d found and placed on the table. Deep red hues danced over powerfully muscled bodies.
“I’m not good at this.” She licked her numb lips and wiped her sweaty palms on her hips.
“At what?” Ber asked.
“Right now, anything.” She chuckled. Her cheeks felt hot. “I want both of you, at the same time, but I don’t know how to make it happen. Or whether that’s what you want.”
Ber looked over at Songan. After a moment, Songan did the same. They nodded as one.
Two unique and special men, sharing her body. “I guess…” She couldn’t think how to finish.
To her relief, Ber extended his hand. She did the same. Her fingers remained linked with his as he turned her so her back was to him. Before she’d caught on to what he had in mind, he’d wrapped his arm around her waist. Drawing her against his erection, he ran a hand over her hip and down her leg.
“I want to be gentle,” he muttered. “After what you’ve been through, you deserve that.”
Songan was in front of her, looming over her, looking down at her breasts and making her nipples harden so they hurt. His hands descended onto her shoulders. Suddenly he was so close she saw nothing except a blur.
“Gentle,” Songan repeated. His breath washed over her face. “Healing.”
Ber stroked the outside of her thigh, the touch not gentle but not rough either. She wanted to embrace both of them but couldn’t remember how to make her muscles work.
“I, ah, don’t know about the gentle part,” she admitted in a whisper. “It’s getting pretty hot.”