The Bear's Home

by Emilia Hartley

  “But they’re beasts,” Dakota said, even as her mind brought her back to the dragon she’d met earlier. That hadn’t looked like a beast, despite his size. He looked more like a playful puppy.

  Clary scoffed at Dakota’s words. “A beast in the bedroom from the sounds of it.”

  Dakota couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her roommate. “Is that all you think about? Your major should have been the Studies of Seduction.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  The girls shared a laugh. Ahead of them, the man that Dakota had sketched during the seminar turned to look at them. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her laugh died in her throat as an unusual feeling rolled through her stomach. She studied the feeling as she met the man’s eyes and realized that it was unease.

  Eventually, he turned back in his seat, readjusting himself. Dakota turned to her roommate. She hadn’t seen Clary bring him back to their room yet. Now, she had a notion that it was probably a very bad idea. Something about the hard look in his eyes told her that he saw himself as more of an authority than a fellow student.

  “I think we should go out tonight,” Clary interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present. “We should get to know the city a little bit. I don’t know much about the city’s nightlife, but it has to have one. Right?”

  Dakota shrugged. “I didn’t pack for nights out on the town.”

  Clary waved her off. “I have you covered. So, will you? Hang out with me tonight, I mean?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Dakota couldn’t help the small smile that slipped across her lips. It was just what she needed to get the puppy faced dragon off her mind. No one knew that she had seen him. As long as it stayed that way then she had nothing to worry about. Her future, her dream, was safe.

  “That sounds like fun, actually.”

  Chapter Four

  Wesley bent and twisted hot iron in his grip so that the ends broke off into branches. Pressing small bits of hot iron between his thumb and his forefinger, he shaped small leaves that he could attach to the branches. His project was coming together, but it was almost mindless work.

  That left his thoughts with the ability to wander in any direction they wished. The beast inside of him guided those thoughts back to the woman he met earlier. He thought of the wall of dark hair that had covered her face. Only when she had looked up to scowl at his presence had the veil fallen to reveal an elegant nose and perfect lips that begged for his attention. The lower lip had been ripe and full, holding the Cupid’s bow upper lip that he wanted to trace with his thumb.

  Wes shook his head, trying to dispel his beast’s thoughts. He was grateful that he’d remained in his dragon form while in the woman’s presence or else he didn’t know what he would have done. If she’d let him, maybe he would have taken her right then and there. His mind might have been clear of her, but tourists could hardly be trusted.

  He’d seen how some women had taken the news of the dragons, daringly trekking into the Snowdonia territories to beg a dragon to take her as his mate. It didn’t work that way, no matter how much they pleaded. Those kinds of women, the fan girls, were never dragon mates. They weren’t cut from the right cloth.

  No matter how attractive she was, the tourist woman wasn’t mate material. Not if she was one of the fan girls.

  Unable to control his thoughts, Wesley set aside his project. The sun had dipped below the horizon and it was clear that he still had far more energy humming through his body than this project could consume. He had to find something else.

  He put out the fire in the bellows and put away his tools. The posts of the bed laid on the floor of the forge, just pieces of something that Wes wasn’t even sure that he needed. As long as he was alone in his home, sleeping on the couch was just fine. Sure, he had his own room and a mattress that he clothed in sheets just to appease his human mother’s sensibilities, but the emptiness of the room often echoed too loudly for him in there. More often than not, he would simply stagger inside and throw himself down onto a couch, immediately falling into sleep.

  The bed frame, once constructed, would be a massive thing. The branches would rise and curl toward the raised ceiling of the highest room in the tower. During the summer months, he imagined his future mate hanging flowers from the branches or draping gauzy fabric over them so it felt like their own private world while he took her.

  The only problem was as the images arose in his mind, the woman in each of them was the scornful creature that he’d come across earlier. The scowl was gone, replaced by a soft smile that she shared just for him as she laid back on the bed he’d made for her.

  He cursed loudly. It had been a long time since he’d gone into the city and laid with a woman. That had to be the reason his mind was filled with the thoughts of the woman. It had been the first time that he’d laid eyes on a woman that wasn’t a dragon’s mate in what felt like years. Of course, his hormones had pushed him to claim her as his own if only to fulfil urges that should have been met a long while ago.

  Wes had to do something. He needed to fill his mind with thoughts of something else. He glanced in the direction of the city, knowing that it was a bad idea. Leaving the territory without the silver binding was not only forbidden by his father, but by his government. Honor had him marching inside his tower. He replaced the sweat pants for a pair of jeans that he knew framed his ass.

  He ripped open the drawer, its contents bouncing about from the force. The silver band jumped forward. A long sigh escaped him. Inside of him, his beast shook his massive body. Candles fell from the hearth mantle behind Wesley. He glanced over his shoulder at the mess that his beast had made.

  It’s the only way that we can leave. We need to rut something fierce. It’s the only explanation.

  Inside of him, the beast rolled its eyes. Wesley agreed that the binding was strange and uncomfortable, but it would make him feel better. He did not want to tell his father that he planned on leaving the territory, but at the same time he wanted to follow some of the rules in case he was caught. It would be just his luck that he would run into his mother on her way home from work.

  Wesley grabbed the plain silver band from the drawer and pushed it up his arm so that it sat high on his forearm. His muscle protested at the binding, but inside of him there was nothing but ringing silence. It was almost painful in how uncomfortable it was, but he also knew that this was not a night in which pleasuring himself would suffice. He needed the touch of another.

  Since flying into the city clearly wasn’t going to happen, between the binding and how conspicuous it was, Wes turned to the old truck that was parked beside the tower. He ran it from time to time, mostly when he needed to drive it over to his mother when she wanted to drive something large into the territory. He wasn’t a fan of being confined inside of a metal box, but it would do for the night. He flipped the visor and a key fell into his hand.

  His father would kill him if he ever found out what he was doing. Wes should wait for the next night that they were allowed to go into town, but he didn’t know if he could live with the thoughts of her filling his mind night after night. She would drive him insane if he couldn’t lay his hands on another woman and drive her from his mind.

  Chapter Five

  Dakota couldn’t believe she’d been talked into this. Going out for a drink was one thing, but what Clary had pulled out for her to wear was another thing completely. Yet, she’d agreed to it. She wanted to forget about what happened earlier. She wanted to remind herself to not worry so much.

  That desire left her sitting on a bar stool and tugging down the hem of her roommate’s short dress. She felt ridiculous, pulling her beer closer while wearing a mini-dress that belonged in a nightclub. Her roommate had bounced into the crowd, her infectious smile enough currency to earn her a seat at every table in the room. Dakota spun on her bar stool and her eyes found Clary, the girl wearing a pair of skin tight pants and a loose top that hung from her form by the thinnest straps.

 
The local guys at the table were attractive enough. They had broad shoulders that she thought would have done them good in rugby. One had a scar over his lip that made him look just dangerous enough to be fine for a night of fun. Clary spun away from them and bounced back toward her. The girl grabbed Dakota’s hands in her own and pulled her from her seat.

  “They’ve offered to buy our drinks for the rest of the night,” Clary informed her.

  Dakota would rather have her journal to replicate the scar over the man’s lip than have him buy her drinks. She wanted to draw the group of older men that sat in the far corner, raucously slapping each other on the back as though they were still young men on the prowl. No one here caught her interest enough to warrant the silly dress that Clary had stuffed her into.

  The bell over the pub door rang, singing in Dakota’s ears over the dull roar of the pub patrons. She threw a glance over only to find her breath caught in her throat. The man standing just inside of the door put the boys at the table to shame. His shoulders were wide from actual muscle, visible from the thick muscle in his arms. Coppery hair was pushed back by his fingers as he ran his hand through it. Cool, blue eyes scanned the crowd.

  They paused on Dakota and she felt her core grow warm. Clary followed her gaze and she heard her roommate swear softly.

  “Why do all the boys have only eyes for you?”

  “Normally, it’s because I don’t have eyes for them.” Dakota knew when a man wanted her only because he thought she would be a challenge, not because he enjoyed who she really was. Most of them looked at her like that. She was the brainy girl, more concerned with her studies than with boys or sex. Guys often saw it as a personal achievement if they could pull her attention from her studies for a night.

  That wasn’t the way that this man was looking at her. His gaze made her feel like she was already naked as his eyes moved up her bare arms.

  “Here’s the deal,” Clary whispered in her ear. “I get the two at the table while you go get tall, ginger, hot damn over there. I think it’s only fair that I get two if you get…. that.”

  Dakota laughed nervously before her friend pushed her in the new man’s direction. She tugged the hem of the short dress and turned back to the new man only to find that he moved on. Her heart dropped through her stomach. She searched the crowd for the head of wild and coppery hair, catching glimpses as he moved through the crowd.

  ***

  There she was, a little flame sitting at the bar. He should have turned around and found another bar. Instead, he let his eyes travel over her body. She wore a little dress made from a shimmery fabric in shades of red to orange. Her charcoal hair made her look like she was on fire, burning to capture his attention. Her long legs begged for him to run his hands up their smooth surface and pull them apart. His pants grew tighter around him.

  He growled at his own thoughts. She didn’t want his attention earlier in the day and she wasn’t about to get it now. He turned away from her and pushed into the crowd. There were other women who would beg and writhe beneath him tonight. They would happily moan his name.

  Despite the smell of beer and sweat that filled the pub, he caught the smell of irises once more and it threw him for a loop. His breath came short and his gait paused.

  She didn’t know who he was. It would be nothing to order a drink and sidle up beside her with a grin. It was nothing for Wesley to lay on the charm, show a little bit of teeth in his smile. She would moan his name that night.

  Finally, he came up to the bar. He motioned to the bartender, a small woman that had arms roped with wiry muscles. Crow’s feet touched the corners of the bartender’s eyes as she turned to him. He pointed to the woman’s drink on the bar and raised two fingers. The bartender nodded, popped the cap on two beers and brought them over to him.

  “Good luck,” the bartender told him. “That one does not want to be here tonight.”

  “All the easier to get her to leave with me then,” he said with a wink.

  The bartender laughed, a barking kind of laugh that was hoarse from her years smoking cigarettes and yelling at rowdy patrons. She paused, turning to give him an assessing look. Her eyes fell on the silver band around his forearm before he could cover it. From the thin line that her lips took on, he knew that she saw him for what he really was. She glanced back at the woman he was set to hunt that night.

  “There is a fire in that girl waiting to come alive,” the bartender said with the wisdom that drink pourers somehow accrued. “You light that girl on fire, but you be good to her or she’ll burn you down in the process.”

  A grin touched his lips. “I’ll try my hardest.”

  “Go get her, beastie.”

  Wes claimed the two bottles and left the bar to disappear into the crowd once more. She was easy to spot, the dress that wrapped her thin form pulling him like a moth to a flame. It took all the self-control he had to make her wait as he watched her eyes scan the crowd. Was she looking for him? He pressed on, making sure that she had no idea where he was.

  Her blonde friend had left the woman alone so that she could sandwich herself between two rough looking local boys. It made her seem like a lost doe as she shifted from foot to foot. He watched her tug at the hem of her dress, yanking it lower on her thighs. It was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted her alone so that he could push the fiery dress up and discover what lay beneath.

  Wes paused before approaching her. He strained against the confines of his jeans and he needed to regain control. Once his pants were more comfortable again, he closed the space between him and the woman. She had her back to him as he lowered himself onto the barstool beside her.

  “You’re a little over dressed for a place like this,” he said.

  She jumped before spinning around. He watched her face flush with warmth, but she never lost the beat.

  “My friend is determined to see that I don’t wear it through the night anyway.” He watched her lips press together in a teasing smile. “I haven’t decided if there’s anyone here worth taking it off for. I’ve surveyed the place and caught maybe one that might be worth it.”

  The image of the dress falling off her frame filled his mind and, for a moment, no words would come to him. He wondered if she would be soft and luscious or if she hid smooth planes beneath the dress. He shoved the thoughts into a box and tossed them in the direction of his lost beast.

  “Am I interrupting something then? I brought you a drink because you seemed lonely. If you already have prey in your sights then I’ll leave you to your hunt.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The dress was more my roommate’s idea. I think she just wanted me out of the dorm for the night so that she could bring both of those boys back with her.” She pointed in the direction of her blonde friend. The girl was currently tying a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue. From the look on their faces, both boys were already going home with her, there was no question about that.

  Wes didn’t want the charcoal haired woman going back with them. He wanted to carry her up to the bedroom that he hardly ever used and throw her down onto the frameless mattress so that he could properly bed her.

  “Too bad no one here tonight sparked my interest,” she said as she put her chin in her hand. Her long fingers played with the condensation on her beer bottle as she looked up at him. Green danced in the golden depths of her eyes.

  “Not a soul in all of Oak Down Pub caught your eye?” Wes feigned offense, pulling back from her despite his mischievous grin. “You did say that there was one man that might be able to help you with that dress problem.”

  “Well,” she said, reaching down to tug the damned dress lower. “There is a guy that I’ve been eyeing all night, but I don’t know if he can handle all of this.”

  “Do tell. I wish to see the man that has such a woman as yourself besotted.” Wes wanted to know what his competition had that he didn’t. He put on a smile when inside he was just short of seething. It was a good thing that he’d thought to put on the silv
er band or else he would have burned.

  Hiding a smile, the charcoal haired woman pointed towards the group of men in the corner that had passed their prime nearly fifty years ago. He followed her gaze to a frail looking man with buggy eyes. The hair above his lip had been molded into two, fine curls. “That man’s moustache does something crazy to me.”

  Wes laughed. It came up from his belly and filled the room. Around them the patrons quieted to turn and look in their direction. As eyes roved over the charcoal haired woman’s body, Wes had to resist the urge to pull her into his lap. He’d claimed her for the night and she would end up in his bed. No other’s.

  She turned back to him, laughter on her lips dying when she saw the heat on his face. He quickly recovered, flashing her a wide smile. Why did this damned woman affect him so? Had it truly been too long since he’d last laid with a woman? That had to be it.

  Tonight, he would fuck her and then he would be done with the opposite sex for a long while. Wes had never dreamed of finding his mate after the Occurrence. One night on the town a month wasn’t long enough to develop the kind of relationship that his parents had. He would settle for nothing less than the love he saw between his parents if the bond was to last for the rest of his life.

  “I don’t think that man would be able to keep up with you,” Wes joked. “Or, he might have the best last night of his life, ever.”

  The woman laughed beside him. “I don’t particularly think I’m enough to kill a man.”

  Wes raised an eyebrow. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit.”

  He watched her face turn red and felt satisfaction stirring inside of him. Did she not truly see herself for what she was? Wes was fairly certain that just looking at what was hidden beneath that fiery dress would give the old man a heart attack.