Grizzly Attraction

by Hattie Hunt

  What the hell was she supposed to do? “You banished her.”

  “It appears banishment wasn’t enough.”

  “I tried to end her. You stopped me.”

  “Emma, she is still your mother. You could never forgive yourself.”

  Emma stared at Zander for a long, hard moment. This was Zander’s Hell. “If I’m responsible…”

  “Even without Cheryl, you are.” Chuck faced her squarely. “It’s time for you to realize that being alpha comes with more responsibility than freedom. You can’t blow off your duties or your clan. You need to meet with them and get them under your control.”

  She did.

  She didn’t want to.

  “Because your mother’s only begun, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she was the one who invited the Hatfields here in the first place.”

  Emma blinked, her mind frightfully still.

  “This could get a lot uglier before it gets better. They could invade. People could die.” Chuck close his eyes and muttered, “Just ask Dexx.”

  Emma had no idea why so many people seemed to be taken with the man or why that seemed to be the only thing people could talk about, but she wasn’t asking Dexx Colt a damned thing.

  She was Emma Elliot, alpha of the Elliot Bear Clan.

  She didn’t need to ask anyone anything.

  “I’ll get it handled.”

  Chuck turned and left. “Make sure you do.”

  26

  It was nearly six in the morning by the time Emma made it back to the cabin. Mason was in the shower, and Emma was too wound up to go back to bed. So, she joined him. She had always wanted to have sex in the shower. Which turned out to be not half as awesome as the movies made it out to be. Still, there was something to be said for making out under the cascade of the showerhead. And she needed to clear her head.

  She could feel Mason watching her as they moved around each other in the bathroom afterward. It was a small room, and they had to share the sink, though Emma did have an extra toothbrush.

  Mason spat into the sink and turned off the water, finally turning to look at her straight on. “So, what happened last night? With the kid?” He was naked, mostly, except for the towel tied around his waist.

  Emma hadn’t bothered, but his modesty—he had proved he wasn’t completely prude by this point—was adorable.

  Emma raised her eyebrows and looked down at the toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

  He shrugged and went back to the bedroom. She was only a minute behind him, but by the time she came into the room he was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. “So?”

  She sighed, not wanting to talk, but not wanting to keep it all balled up, either. “He got picked up by the cops for drugs. But the Shadow Sisterhood is involved. Yola’s pissed, because he was showing off in front of a bunch of mundanes. Enough that they called 911 because they thought he was going to overdose.”

  “And because he is a shifter, he can’t, but he can take enough to kill a small elephant.”

  “More or less.” Emma started tossing clothes aside from the pile by her bed. What did an alpha wear to a clan meeting? Nothing. The answer was nothing. She stopped digging. “He was still pretty messed up. Even for having the ability to metabolize. I don’t know what got into him, but we’re all in trouble because the other bear clan is using this against me.”

  “I’m sorry, Emma.” Mason adjusted his glasses, leaning back on the bed to pick up the magnetic pen off the side table. He propped it onto his glasses and stood up. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. I’m alpha. It’s my problem. Or, at least, my fire to put out. That’s what alpha’s do.” Emma pulled her wet hair over one shoulder and rang it out onto the floor as she stood up.

  He blinked rapidly, but shook his head. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  She reached for her phone.

  Mason pulled her toward him, a hand around her waist.

  She turned into him, putting her hands on his chest. Honestly, this was where she wanted to be. “Sleep’s overrated.”

  Mason kissed her once and pulled her into a hug. “Let me know if you need anything today, okay? I have to get going. Somebody put me behind schedule.”

  Emma looked up at the ceiling, her lips quirked to the side. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Then she kissed him back and shimmied out of his grip. “Everything’ll be fine. I just need to take care of some things with the bears.”

  “Will I see you later?”

  “I’ll let you know. It depends on what kind of shit show the rest of the day turns into.” Emma watched as he looked around the room, checking for anything he had forgotten. “Do you think anyone will notice you’re wearing the same thing you did yesterday? Or do teachers do that anyway?”

  He looked down at his clothes and shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “Not if you’re a man, apparently. I can feel the judgment rolling off people if they catch me in the same tank two days in a row. It’s like wearing a neon sign that says, ‘I didn’t go home last night’. I think everyone should just run around naked.”

  “You could join a nudist colony.”

  “Only if you come with me.” Emma laughed, knowing he wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place. “Quill boy.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “See ya later, Emma.” He kissed her once more and then left her standing in the middle of the bedroom.

  Emma shot Jordan a quick message and then counted out three long breaths. She needed to put herself in alpha mode. Which she wasn’t sure was really a thing, but she knew she couldn’t walk into the clan house feeling the way she was feeling right then.

  She regained more control as the door closed behind Mason, the bubble of safety and warmth and nonreality fading with the distance between them. Only to be replaced with the tense, hollow pit in her stomach that appeared every time she thought about stepping up in front of the clan as alpha.

  Mal.

  Yes.

  Are you ready for this?

  Are you?

  Emma frowned, closing her eyes and trying to ground herself in another round of slow breathing. Her phone dinged with Jordan’s reply, and she swiped it open, reading the message through the spidered glass. She really needed to get that fixed.

  His message was short and to the point. All business. No friendship. Where the hell had they gone wrong all the sudden? She was starting to think they had overestimated their ability to be just friends. Which was so stupid when they hadn’t actually been dating.

  Goosebumps prickled up over her arms, and Emma drew Mal forward, wrapping herself in his fur. They would be shifting to travel. They always shifted to get to the Elliot compound if they could. But she looked down at the phone in her hand. If they shifted, she would have to leave it behind. That was understood among shifters. If she left it behind, she wouldn’t be able to talk to Mason. Tuck wouldn’t be able to get ahold of her if anything else came up with Zander. Maybe Mason wasn’t so wrong to carry a bag with him.

  Mal shook his head, growling low.

  I’m not going to make you carry anything. Relax.

  He did. Barely.

  Come on, Malin. Emma only used his full name when he was being particularly obtuse. Let’s get out of here. With a final glance at her phone, she tossed it on the bed and left the cabin.

  There was something about the crisp morning air that always helped clear her head. And the mornings at the cabin were always cooler than in town. The fresh sharpness of the air filled her up in a couple of short breaths. She could taste the dew, a sweet condensation riding the air currents where the sun hadn’t touched the trees quite yet. It took longer for the sun to reach the cabin, tucked into the side of the mountain as it was. That was one of her favorite things about it.

  Emma arched her back, stretching her arms over her head. As she pulled back, she let Mal forward. The transition happened without a thought, her shoulders and back bulking up with his powerf
ul muscles. The fur on her shoulders thickened, her long blonde hair shortened, forming into her signature golden mane. She dropped down onto front feet the size of dinner plates, the impact sending a ripple through their muscles.

  She arrived at her mother’s house and it already felt…different. She shifted to her human form as her feet landed on the first step and opened the door.

  Gary, one of her mother’s clan elders, frowned in irritation and rushed forward to hand her a robe. “You should put this on.”

  Really? When had her clan suddenly become so prudish.

  But then she noticed how all the men looked at her. Like she should be ashamed of herself.

  Jordan stood proud, as if bearing through her shame.

  What the hell was this?

  Emma cinched her robe closed and walked to the head of the oval table where everyone already stood or sat.

  Jordan stepped out of the leader’s position and took his place at the second-in-command, which had always been her chair. She looked around the table, seeing people who were not her supporters. They were Cheryl’s. Even Brett was missing. “Where’s Brett?” she asked quietly.

  “If you’d been around,” Agnes said snappishly, folding her thick fingers in front of her, “you would know that he and Juliet fled to Alaska.”

  They’d been talking about moving back there for the past couple of weeks anyway to be with Juliet’s family. “I’m glad they finally felt free to move.”

  Agnes bristled, obviously not happy with the fact that Emma had completely ignored her dig.

  Yeah. Emma knew how to play Agnes’s game. It was the same shit Cheryl pulled and while she could get away with it by being Emma’s mother, Agnes couldn’t. Emma refused to take that crap from anyone else.

  “Anyone else want to be an asshole right now?” Emma asked quietly.

  The remaining eleven elders around the council table shifted uncomfortably.

  Except Jordan, who seemed to be even more upset. “You don’t have to be so rude,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, don’t I?” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “When you’re all being rude to me?”

  “You’re the whore,” Agnes spat out. “Cheating on Jordan like that after all that he’s done for you. Were you even thinking of that when your mother offered up the wedding?”

  The dirty looks from the men suddenly made sense. They no longer saw her as a person, but as a sex toy, a sullied one at that.

  “And all those plans your mother made for you,” Beatrice said snappishly. “Did you even think of her when you were screwing another man?”

  Emma blinked. Not in surprise, but in shock.

  Because Jordan hadn’t said a thing.

  She turned to him. “Really?”

  He turned a cool gaze in her direction, remaining silent as if in challenge.

  Cheryl must have done something to him when she’d tried to give him the alpha will. Something was wrong with him.

  Emma sat down. “What’s the situation with the rival bear clan?”

  “The Hatfields, you mean?” Roger asked, also taking his seat. “Your mother would never have allowed a fling to sidetrack her into allowing a situation like this to brew this far.”

  “She was the one who called them.” She didn’t have proof, but she was fairly certain. “She did that to force Jordan and I to marry because she knew we were ready to call it off.” Emma was almost certain of that as well. The woman was spooky intuitive, which had made her an excellent manipulator.

  Agnes shook her head, her lips quirked. “The stories you tell, Emma. Seriously. You would’ve thought you’d have grown out of that by now. Honestly, how old are you?”

  Emma wanted to force her will down that bitch’s throat. She didn’t realize that she’d be dealing with three mini-Cheryls, though how she’d missed that thought was beyond Emma.

  Gary had remained standing. He pressed his fingertips onto the wood table and leaned in. “The Hatfields want our lands.”

  “They’re not getting our lands.” And that was fact. She now owned those lands and she knew those budgets.

  But…she’d forgotten to lock Cheryl out. That was something she was going to have to do as soon as she got back to her cabin. Or the shop. She didn’t have internet at the cabin yet. Crap.

  “They’re also trying to get in on our other enterprises.” Francis stood, towering over Emma.

  Emma kept her sigh of frustration contained. This would be one of those moments that Cheryl would have forced her will on her clan to make them behave, but Emma didn’t want to be that alpha. Though she was tempted. Dear God, she was tempted. “They won’t succeed there either.”

  “Ripley Kent just bought three cases of their liquor last week.”

  Joe’s mate and padfoot, who Cheryl had shunned. “That’s what happens when her normal liquor supplier cuts her off. What did you expect would happen?”

  Francis clamped his lips shut.

  There were other ways of being the alpha without stripping away their will.

  Beatrice blinked rapidly, looking at Agnes.

  Gary glared at Emma.

  “What?” Emma said in mock surprise, putting her hand to her lips. “You thought she’d run and hide? That she’d leave? That she’d come crawling to you, begging for your liquor?”

  “We are renowned in these parts,” Agnes said quietly.

  “Yes. And Rip’s been around the world and has probably discovered some pretty amazing stuff to replace your over-priced liquor.” Even though Emma loved Elliot whiskey. And their Raspberry Pie? It was like the southern Apple Pie Whiskey. It was her absolute favorite. But she had to make a point.

  Donna, who had been quiet until then, turned, her brown eyes narrowed in heat. “You’re a traitor to your mate and your family.”

  “I didn’t betray Jordan, even though he’s being a chickenshit right now and not admitting it.” Emma was pissed. “And I’m not betraying you by saying the truth…out loud.” Her anger pushed at her alpha spirit.

  Mal growled with her.

  These fucking assholes.

  Emma rose. “The Hatfields aren’t a concern. They can prance and parade all they like. But they’re not a real threat. We are secure.”

  “Are you sure?” Agnes asked with a cocky smile.

  Yeah. Emma needed to freeze Cheryl out of the accounts immediately. What Cheryl didn’t know was that Emma had already talked to the banks and had limited Cheryl’s abilities anyway. She was practically frozen out. The banks wouldn’t move more than five hundred dollars a week without authorization from Emma.

  But it was time to let Cheryl know exactly where she stood in Emma’s clan.

  Emma pressed her own fingertips into the table and leaned forward. “I am not a whore. Jordan was never my mate. And we are not in trouble.”

  “And what about Zander?” Jordan asked quietly.

  Emma’s will flared inside her chest. “You mean, a man who would never be allowed within our clan in the first place? He suddenly has merit now? Oh, I’ll be watchful for Cheryl and her new clan and how they’ll target him next to get at you.”

  Her will lashed out, calling them the cowardly schmucks they were.

  Donna returned to her cowed expression, looking down at the table.

  Francis took his chair.

  Agnes appeared instantly contrite.

  Beatrice raised her chin in defiance.

  Jordan turned to Emma and glared.

  Yes. It was about time they felt the power of their alpha.

  But, damnit, she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  27

  Emma roped Sam into helping her haul her supplies into the club house. When she spent her alternating Fridays there, she didn’t just show up with an armload of treats. She came with buckets of supplies and baked everything right there in the kitchen. That way, if the residents wanted to bake or help or even just watch, they could. It was kind of like having her own cooking show—something she would never do
outside of Troutdale Springs.

  And she always made sure Sam got a bite of whatever they cooked up. Sam was a wolf, part of Chuck’s pack, and though they had never hung out beyond their brief interludes at the retirement home, they always managed easy conversation. Today, not so much.

  As he disappeared into the back seat of her car to grab the balloons, Emma rolled her eyes, hitching the box of dry goods higher on her hip. “Sam, I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

  His head poked through the bundle of balloons. “We don’t have to talk about it. I was just hoping you would have taken a picture, so I could hang it up on my wall. Emma Elliot, a grizzly bear bristling with porcupine quills.”

  She pushed the door on her side of the car closed with her hip. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll let you find out what it’s like for yourself. I’m sure Mason wouldn’t mind.”

  That shut him up until they were at least inside. Then, mercifully, he was paged out to one of the residences for a pick up. Sam almost took the balloons with him.

  But in true Florence fashion, she swiped them out of his hand before disaster could strike. “‘Bout time you showed up out here again. We’ve missed you.”

  “Hey, Florence. I assume you’ve been keeping everyone in line while I was gone?”

  She traded Emma the balloons for the box of supplies and moved towards the kitchen. “I only burnt one batch of cookies last week. So, there weren’t any riots, if that is what you’re asking.”

  “Close enough.” Emma split the bundle of balloons in two and tied half to each side of the buffet window on the cafeteria side of the kitchen. “So, who do we have today?”

  “Janet and Susan. You probably haven’t met Susan yet. Her and Robert just moved in a couple weeks ago.”

  Did she just let Florence assume she hadn’t? No. That would only make things awkward when Susan came running up to her later, which she was pretty sure was guaranteed to happen. “I actually met her earlier this week. Her son, Mason, asked me to make her something for her birthday. An old family recipe.”

  “Oh, wonderful. She’s such a dear. Fits right in, and did you see the way she already decorated their unit? She’s been hinting all week at what it will be changing to at the end of the month, but she won’t tell anyone what. It’s driving us mad.”