by Joyce, T. S.
“Shhhh,” she whispered, pulling him closer and pressing her hand against his rattling chest. She rocked him gently like he was the one who needed comfort right now. Nurturing mate, caring for everyone else above herself. God, he loved her more than anything in the world.
On the glowing television was footage of the fire. A grainy, faraway picture of Damon’s massive dragon flying away from the explosion flashed across the screen, and a subtitle ran constantly across the bottom of the frame. Damon Daye murdered a human police officer. A picture of Ally appeared in the top right corner as a reporter listed her accomplishments in the field. In the picture, Ally had long brunette hair, her chin lifted proudly, and she looked striking in her police uniform.
“That feels like it was taken a million years ago,” she murmured.
Kirk sighed and dragged her against his side. “They think Brackeen’s body is yours. They think you’re dead.”
She huffed a soft laugh and nodded once. “Yeah, well, they won’t think that for long.”
Breaking News flashed across the bottom of the screen, and the news reporter pressed her fingertips to her ear and said, “We have new information regarding the fire in Damon’s mountains.”
“Here it is,” Emerson said nervously. “Turn it up.”
Kirk leaned forward, plucked the remote off the coffee table, and hit the volume button.
In the video, Ally sat on the couch where they were now sitting, the lamplight soft against her cheeks as she wrung her hands nervously. Her lips twitched into a smile, then fell as Emerson asked her from off camera, “Please state your name and what you do.”
“Uuuh, it’s the middle of the night on June sixteenth. Outside, there is a fire raging and threatening the mountains here. My name is Alison Holman. Officer Alison Holman,” she corrected with a nervous laugh. She looked straight into the camera and murmured, “And no matter what anyone is saying, I am most certainly not dead.”
“You were at that fire tonight?”
“Yes.”
The crinkle of paper turning sounded. “Was it Damon Daye who set that fire?”
“No. Damon Daye saved me from that fire.”
“Who…” Emerson cleared her throat and murmured, “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.”
Ally smiled and said, “It’s okay. Just pretend it’s me and you.”
Emerson swallowed noisily as the camera panned to her. Audrey must’ve been filming. Emerson stood, sat next to Ally, and gripped her hand. “You’re my friend, and it’s hard to see you hurt. Last night, you were attacked unprovoked by your own partner. Choked. Chemically burned by a kill switch. And then someone doused your cabin in fire accelerant, filled it with gas, and lit a lighter. Who did this to you?”
“IESA. Not Damon Daye.” Ally’s face went stern, and her voice steadied. And then his strong-as-steel woman launched into the story of what happened. She didn’t embellish, didn’t exaggerate. She said it straight and missed nothing. She didn’t let IESA off the hook for a single thing.
“Why would they do this?” Emerson asked.
“Because my death was supposed to frame Damon Daye and cause war with the shifters. Shifters have been stripped of some of their rights already, and you have to ask yourself why. Don’t listen blindly to what the media feeds you,” she urged. “Do your research. Demand responsible coverage. Open your mind to the possibility that while shifters aren’t exactly like humans, they still care about the same things.”
The scene cut to a video of them at the falls. Of Ally sitting in Kirk’s lap, smiling at him like he was the most important part of her world. Emerson turned the camera on herself and Bash, kissed his cheek, and then laughed as he cupped her belly and nuzzled her neck affectionately.
Ally’s voice came on over the playful scene. “They care about love. Family. They care about friendships.”
There was a slow motion shot of the Boarlanders jumping off the falls together, grins on their faces. There was a close-up of Ally and Kirk’s hands, holding tight as they walked through the woods. The little heart tattoo on Ally’s wrist that Kirk loved to kiss was pink and perfect against her skin.
“They aren’t here to hurt anyone. They’re trying to live, just like everyone else.”
The screen faded to black and opened again with Harrison’s grinning face as he gave Audrey a piggy-back ride through the woods, her pink flip-flops dangling from her fingers as she cheesed and waved at the camera.
“They want what everyone else wants,” Ally said in a thickening voice. She appeared on camera again, clutching Emerson’s hand. Her eyes were rimmed with tears as she murmured, “They want to be free.”
The screen faded to black, and the reporter sat there, looking stunned.
“Holy hell,” Harrison murmured from behind the couch where his arms were locked on the back of it as he stared in shock at the screen.
“I like your heart tattoo,” Bash said in a happy voice. “Looks real good on the TV. And Emerson, you looked hot as fuck. And Audrey, you held the camera real good.”
Mason gripped Ally’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you in our corner.” He shook her gently and lowered his voice. “Damon is important to me, and you risked yourself to protect him. You need anything—anything at all—just ask.” His voice cracked on the last word, and then he abruptly left 1010.
Clinton ruffled Ally’s hair roughly from behind the couch and made to leave, but stopped. Slowly, he turned and grabbed her hand. He searched Ally’s face and said, “You ain’t no C-Team today. You’re A-Team Ally.” He squeezed her palm once, then walked out behind Mason, leaving Ally staring after him with shocked, wide eyes.
Kirk watched as the rest of their crew gave her hugs, and murmured their thanks. It struck him what she’d done. She hadn’t sat here waiting for them to come back from fighting that fire. She and the girls had gone to work, and done more good than he could’ve ever imagined.
Kirk hugged her tightly as the first blinding rays of sunlight filtered through the open window of 1010. How fitting after the hell they’d been through that the sun shone through the smoke and smog that thickened the air.
It reminded him of his Ally. Of her resilience. He was so damned proud of her.
She wasn’t hiding anymore. She wasn’t a ghost. She wasn’t invisible.
Instead, she’d gone to battle for him and for the shifters of Damon’s mountains.
Kirk pulled her into his lap, desperate to be closer to her, and she slid her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. Her shoulders shook with emotion, and it ripped him up inside. They’d both been scared of losing each other last night.
Cupping her cheek, Kirk lifted her gaze to his so she could see the truth in his eyes when he said, “I see you, Ally.”
She smiled as a single, glistening tear streamed down her cheek. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Over the course of a month, Alison’s life had done a complete turnaround.
One month since the fire. One month since going on the attack against IESA. One month since the petitions and picket lines had flared around the country in support of shifters. One month since the government backpedaled and decided to hold a vote within the year to reinstate shifter rights.
She had resigned from the police force, but Porter had come to her aid and publically backed her. On behalf of his precinct, he’d denounced any further involvement with IESA, no matter what the superiors ordered. Sacrificing one of their own had given shifters an unexpected ally.
Alison stood up on her four-wheeler and scanned the woods, but all was quiet. God, it was so stunning out here. She was surrounded by thick, towering pines and birds singing in the canopy. Green moss and ground cover made these woods feel like a jungle, and everywhere she looked, there was an incredible mountain view. She didn’t miss the noise of the city anymore. In fact, she couldn’t remember very clearly her life before meeting Kirk. Her past was a blur, while her present was crisp and defined
. Beautiful.
It had been one month since Damon had hired her to run security for his land.
She waved at Georgia as the park ranger slowed on the trail, headed back to the tree house ranger station Beaston had built for her.
“Headed home?” Georgia asked.
Home. The sound of that word never ceased to warm her from the inside out. “Yeah. Kirk says he has a surprise for me,” she said excitedly.
Georgia snorted. “When Jason says that, it’s usually his dick. His dick is the surprise.”
Alison giggled and waved as Georgia sped off into the woods.
She hit the gas on her ATV and blasted toward home. A familiar feeling washed over her as she drove under the Boarland Mobile Park sign. It was the same sensation she always felt when she came back to this place after work. It was a feeling of such deep-rooted belonging that, like always, her heart pounded a little harder.
Clinton sat in a plastic lawn chair with a silver suntanning screen resting on his chest as he looked up at the sky in his yellow trucker hat with a red rope candy hanging from his mouth. He didn’t greet her as she passed, but he also didn’t flip her off, which was progress.
Bash, Emerson, Harrison, and Audrey were cooking what smelled like hamburgers on the new built-in grill the boys had constructed where the old ant pile used to be, and their laughter echoed across the park. On his porch, Mason nodded a greeting to her and plucked soft notes on his old guitar. He would leave here soon and move into Damon’s house when it was finished, and a wave of sadness took her. He would be missed. Already, she felt a hole in her chest from his absence.
Usually she rode straight back to 1010 where she and Kirk had been staying, but today, he sat on the steps of his own trailer, the first one on the left. His long legs were bent, his muscular arms draped over his knees, his long hair fallen forward as he gave her one of those breathtaking crooked smiles. She still couldn’t believe he was hers.
“Did you finish the trailer?” she asked hopefully.
“Maybe,” he teased.
With an excited squeal, she cut the engine and bolted for him. He caught her and spun her in a slow circle.
“That isn’t your surprise, though.” He settled her on her feet and pulled up the sleeve of his white T-shirt. Down the inside of his bicep, in perfect script, was a tattoo that read ghost.
“You got a tattoo for me?” she asked, heart in her throat as she traced the new ink. It was his first.
He pulled her hand up, then kissed the small, neat letter K that she’d had done just beside her pink heart. “I know we can’t show everyone your claiming mark. The world isn’t ready yet, but this we can do. This claiming mark is legal.”
“Okay,” she said thickly. She couldn’t even put into words how much this meant to her.
“You ready to see our trailer?”
“Yeah.” He’d been working on it non-stop lately, but hadn’t allowed her to see the inside.
Kirk led her up the steps, and just before he opened the beautifully stained dark wooden door, he said, “Close your eyes.”
She did and clutched onto his bicep as they stepped inside. It still smelled of sawdust and new paint.
Kirk sipped her lips and whispered, “Okay, Ally Cat. Open them.”
Alison gasped as she spun in a slow circle, scanning their home. Kirk had opened up all the walls and supported the new ceiling with natural wood beams. The large bedroom area took up one third of the home on the right, there was an open living room in the center with refurbished chestnut wood floors. There was wainscoting and designer paint in different shades of gray, and even the couch and coffee table looked new, perfect in the space. She laughed at the large painted picture of a gorilla ripping the cord of a chainsaw under a rainbow. It looked like a six year old made it, and in the bottom right-hand corner, Willa had signed her name. It added the perfect amount of interest and color on the long back wall. The kitchen was the real showstopper, though. It had glistening granite countertops, antique white cabinets, and a large farmhouse sink. It looked like it belonged in some fancy magazine.
“I wish I could give you more. You deserve more,” Kirk said from behind her. “But this is what I have to give. A refurbished trailer home, a C-Team crew of shifters…and me.”
“That’s more than enough, Kirk. It’s everything.”
She turned to hug him, but he wasn’t where she’d expected. Instead, he was down on one knee, a white gold band encircled with tiny, shimmering diamonds in his hand.
She clasped her hands over her mouth to keep the sob in her throat and blinked hard to keep her tears at bay.
His smile was big and his eyes sincere as he uttered the words, “We can’t marry right now, but someday, things will be different for us. I know they will. And until then, I’d be honored if you wore my ring. Ally…”
“Yeah?” she asked in a small voice.
“Will you have me as your husband?”
With a jerky nod, she dropped down to him and hugged his neck as tight as she could. He rocked them gently and massaged slow circles on her back.
This was it.
This was the moment she would cherish for always. The moment Kirk had chosen her in every possible way. She hadn’t known what family—real family—was before she’d stumbled into Boarland woods that first night, but Kirk had known just what she needed and had given it to her.
A home, a crew…him.
He didn’t think he had much to offer, but he didn’t see. Before him, her life had been lacking. It had been dark and hard, but he’d come in and made it blindingly beautiful.
From now until forever, she would never have to question where she belonged.
No matter what happened from here on, she would face it beside the man who had fought for this moment and earned her heart.
Up Next in This Series
Boarlander Beast Boar
Coming March 2016
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Want More of These Characters?
Read T. S. Joyce’s bestselling Gray Back Bears series.
Entire series, available now.
Gray Back Bad Bear (Book 1)
Gray Back Alpha Bear (Book 2)
Gray Back Ghost Bear (Book 3)
Gray Back Broken Bear (Book 4)
Lowlander Silverback (Book 5)
Other Series by T. S. Joyce
Saw Bears
Lumberjack Werebear (Book 1)
Woodcutter Werebear (Book 2)
Timberman Werebear (Book 3)
Sawman Werebear (Book 4)
Axman Werebear (Book 5)
Woodsman Werebear (Book 6)
Lumberman Werebear (Book 7)
Fire Bears
Bear My Soul (Book 1)
Bear the Burn (Book 2)
Bear the Heat (Book 3)
Bears Fur Hire
Husband Fur Hire (Book 1)
Bear Fur Hire (Book 2)
Mate Fur Hire (Book 3)
Wolf Fur Hire (Book 4)
Dawson Fur Hire (Book 5)
Chance Fur Hire (Book 6)
Bear Valley Shifters
The Witness and the Bear (Book 1)
Devoted to the Bear (Book 2)
Return to the Bear (Book 3)
Betray the Bear (Book 4)
Redeem the Bear (Book 5)
Bear Valley Valentine (Valentine’s Day Novella)
Hells Canyon Shifters
Call of the Bear (Book 1)
Fealty of the Bear (Book 2)
Avenge the Bear (Book 3)
Claim the Bear (Book 4)
Heart of the Bear (Book 5)
Wolf Brides
Wolf Bride (Book 1)
Red Snow Bride (Book 2)
Dawson Bride (Book 3)
Standalone Shifter Romance
Coveted by the Bear
Amazon
&n
bsp; Standalone Contemporary Romance
Shelter Me Home
Amazon
About the Author
T.S. Joyce is devoted to bringing hot shifter romances to readers. Hungry alpha males are her calling card, and the wilder the men, the more she'll make them pour their hearts out. Experienced at handling an alpha male of her own, she lives in a tiny town, outside of a tiny city, and devotes her life to writing big stories. Foodie, bear whisperer, ninja, thief of tiny bottles of awesome smelling hotel shampoo, nap connoisseur, movie fanatic, and zombie slayer, and most of this bio is true.
Bear Shifters? Check
Smoldering Alpha Hotness? Double Check
Sexy Scenes? Fasten up your girdles, ladies and gents, it’s gonna to be a wild ride.
For more information about T. S. Joyce and her work, visit her website here.
Contents
Other Books in This Series
For More of These Characters
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen