A shiver coursed through her bones as she tried to figure out what he wanted from her, and then, Kiko hissed, “Of course. Dammit to hell.” He turned to Annette and said, “It’s the blood sacrifice. It’s stopping him from shifting.”
“What?” she half-shrieked. “What’s he going to do?”
“It’s time to figure out what the sacrifice he had to make was.”
“What do you mean?”
He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the black waves and making them fall askew atop his head. “Right, close your eyes.”
Wanting to obey and to help, she did just that, then when a roar echoed around the yard, they popped open again. Mars had taken another hit.
“Stop thinking about the challenge,” Kiko snarled. “Focus on what I’m telling you. Right, close your eyes. Center your breathing. Cut out the rest of this shit, and just think about yourself. About you. Put everything in order.”
She did as he said. Letting air flood her lungs, before releasing it. She checked in with herself as her shrink had taught her—lessons she’d never followed until now, so thank Christ, she had a decent enough memory to remember the shit he’d spouted her way.
“When you know you’re okay,” he told her, his voice a soft rumble. “When everything feels copacetic, you should feel something that isn’t. Something that’s just a little off.”
Annette froze, because she’d already come across something exactly like that. It was right at her core, and it freaked her the hell out that she’d spotted it without his guidance because that meant it was sticking out like a sore thumb in her psyche—frankly, she had enough issues with that part of her, adding something else to the fray was not on her to do list.
“Prod it,” he carried on. “Try to figure out what it is. Try to discern what you have to do to bring it to the fore.”
His instructions didn’t fit with the methods her psychiatrist had taught her, as he’d intended this to be a calming technique not a riling one, but she allowed herself to study that certain something that felt ‘off’ as Kiko had phrased it, and then, somehow, she realized what it was.
Mars?
She asked the question hesitantly, unsure if he could hear her, and even more uncertain as to whether she was losing her mind if she thought she could talk to another person with said mind alone.
Saying that, these past few days had been an exercise in insanity.
If she was still relatively sane after what had been happening of late, she had to figure she was strong where she needed to be.
Annette? Baby, I can’t shift.
At his retort, amazement drowned her. It overwhelmed her because she could talk to him, without uttering a word, and without him concentrating on her but a goliath of a grizzly bear.
I need you to focus, he told her, like she wasn’t already focusing on just trying to converse with him. The way you’ve accessed this channel between us, try to help me shift.
How do I do that? She asked, trying and failing not to sound panicked.
I don’t know, but you have to try. I can hold him off but not forever, he warned.
As anguish filled her, she retreated to that little knot in her psyche she’d uncovered moments before, and tried to discern a means of helping her mate shift.
And then, almost as though thinking the word was all the trigger Mars needed, and like some kind of miracle, another roar echoed around the yard and a bear popped up where moments before, her mate had been standing.
In comparison, Mars’s bear was larger than Jackson’s, which considering their stature in human form, made complete and utter sense. She was relieved to note that now, Jackson was the one looking antsy, and she realized he’d been hoping to use Mars’s weakness after the blood sacrifice against him. The bastard.
Annette supposed a man who didn’t mind getting into cahoots with a bunch of scum suckers who found it acceptable to make money by transporting humans around as though they were cargo, was quite capable of turning the odds of a fight in his favor. By fair means or foul.
Rather than feel distaste or discomfort now, with every hit Mars scored, she felt a satisfaction that bit into her very soul. Each swipe of his claws, each droplet of blood that poured from one of Jackson’s many wounds, seemed to trigger a lust in her. A lust she’d never experienced before, and a lust that disquieted her.
She was hungry for Jackson’s fall, and she was annoyed at Mars for taking so long about it.
Take him down, she demanded, letting the connection between them sprout up once more.
He needs to pay.
He’ll pay, with his life. Take it. Now! Annette commanded.
When Mars turned to her, a pout on that huge maw of his, she hardened her heart. I want him to suffer, he complained.
Let the Goddesses decide what to do with him, she whispered in his mind, and realized that the part of her that felt blood lust at the sight of Jackson being taken down, was the part of her that had been saved by the very Goddesses she’d just spoken of.
Gulping at the knowledge of how much she’d changed, of the way her train of thoughts were skewing now because of her experiences at this clubhouse, she watched, content, when Mars obeyed. He was a strong man, one capable of making his own decisions and leading his own life by his set of staunch rules. She admired that about him. His inner fortitude radiated from him, and his essence, which was truly Alpha, called to her in a way she’d never be able to explain to anyone who knew her and knew how she railed against dominant men who tried to tell her what to do.
But in this, Mars conceded to her wishes and she was grateful for it. It showed her that his caring ran deeper than she’d suspected—he wanted to please her, and she was pleased when, with a swift swipe of a paw, Mars ran those mean claws of his along Jackson’s throat. Annette couldn’t ‘see’ the strength it took to make such a move, however, she didn’t have to because she saw the result.
That one swipe near as dammit cleaved Jackson’s head from his neck. With a gulping gabble that was half roar, half agonizing mewl, bubbles of blood spouted from the wound. The bear sank to his knees, almost like a human male would do when felled by such a move, and then, in one single sweep, tumbled forward, face first.
The act was done with enough force to further tear the beast’s head from his shoulders, and Annette had to close her eyes and turn away. The sight was more than she needed or wanted to see.
At the Prez’s felling, a silence had swarmed through the crowd. Where before, they’d been like a bunch of busy bees, humming and buzzing, their energy nourished by the battle going on before them, now the men were quiet.
The ground beneath them had vibrated when the bears had lumbered around. Not terribly so, but enough to feel it, and it shook a tad once more as Mars moved away from the corpse of the creature that had once led this group of outlaws, and headed toward the crowd.
Suddenly, those vibrations dissipated and she realized he’d shifted again. Annette turned to see her mate, knowing it was vital he knew she hadn’t turned away from him but from the sight of the almost-headless corpse that had been beside him.
He looked at her, his eyes seeking an answer from the depths of her own. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, what he was seeking, but he seemed to find it because he nodded, then turned to the crowd. Annette took a second to take him in, the glory of her strong mate, and then winced at the numerous cuts, the jagged wounds, the bruises and the dirt—though the fight had been weighed in Mars’s favor, those endless moments when Jackson had fought as a bear had taken their toll.
“I, Mars Donner, hereby take the role of Clan Leader. Rightfully earned by challenge law, if any do deny my right to stand here and lead you, come now and fight for the right to take this position from me.”
The words bellowed around the terrace, and Annette, curious as to the brethren’s reaction, scoured the faces in the crowd. Most of them wore looks of respect, of contentedness—Jackson obviously hadn’t been a popular leader. Others seemed a little put
out, but those naysayers kept quiet. She kept a mental note of those who appeared to be unhappy, scrawling their faces into a mental notebook that only came out when a good story was cropping up. In this, though, there was no story, only a means of saving her mate from any bastard who might try to usurp him.
Mars’s decree was met with silence, until Kiko let out a call that seemed to mix a war cry with that of a celebratory holler. It seemed out of place, what with the dead body of the ex leader behind him, but Mundo bounced up and down, rushing over to Mars to clap an arm around his shoulder and half-hug him. More men clustered around Mars, each one showing their pleasure at his new role in the clan.
To be fair, most of the crowd did too, and any discontent seemed to disappear swiftly in the wave of emotion that flooded the brethren.
She didn’t know how she sensed it, and figured it was a part of her new repertoire of skills that had been gifted to her during the blood sacrifice, but she knew Jackson had spread a lot of malcontent with his consorting with the human traffickers.
She could feel it in the low throb of emotion that joined each shifter. At their core was an indisputable honor, and Jackson’s behavior, his business negotiations, had gone completely against that honor.
Pursing her lips at the thought, Annette was about to step back, to head to the clubhouse to wash up and get changed into something more respectable when, almost like he knew she was about to leave, Mars pushed his way through the crowd gathered around him and headed toward her like some kind of avenging angel who had just succeeded in securing vengeance.
As he neared, she shivered.
This man was hers, and now, not only was she an old lady in some wacky MC, but she was the mate of a powerful shifter… When this week had begun, she’d never imagined it would turn out this way by Thursday, but as crazy as it was, and even though there was a fucking corpse just feet away, she wouldn’t change it worth a damn.
Chapter Eleven
The instant Annette began to wander away from the terrace, his bear, already on edge, scented the distance she was intent on putting between them.
When he’d called on his beast and the beast had been trapped, unable to tear free of the prison that was his human skin to the animal, everything inside him had gone haywire.
He’d had no choice but to call on all his skills, his strengths and, of all things, his showmanship to keep Jackson on edge. To keep the bastard from realizing he was trapped in his skin and unable to free himself to fight properly.
He realized then, when he couldn’t shift, that Jackson had been hoping for such a weakness. News of the blood sacrifice had undoubtedly spread around the clubhouse, and Jackson, being the cowardly motherfucker he was, had probably leapt at the chance to take out a rival while he was weakened.
Mars was popular within the MC. Not only that, he was a strong shifter and a hard worker. He was well respected. Plus, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was dissatisfied with the way the MC was being managed, and his disapproval of the runs with the traffickers hadn’t been all that secret if Mundo had figured out he was unhappy with club business… Throw all that aside, and Annette had been right. Once the rest of the brethren realized that a mate wasn’t safe here, on their territory, thanks to their leader’s mismanagement, Mars started to look more and more like an enemy than a second-in-command.
He guessed he should have expected a challenge of his own before now. Maybe he’d been blind and or arrogant to think Jackson unaware of his lack of satisfaction with the man’s leadership skills. But, for all that, none of it mattered anymore because Jackson was dead, and Mars was the Prez.
The role was as discomforting as he’d imagined it would be. He’d wear the mantel of power for however long was required, and he’d have no problem doing his duty, but he knew, deep down, he wasn’t the right man for the job.
Why?
Because duty to the MC should come first, and Mars couldn’t make such a promise.
The woman before him was his highest priority, and that was only after a handful of days together. When they’d been together for a year, he couldn’t even imagine how tightly knit they would be, and after a decade? With cubs of their own to care for?
No, he wasn’t a born leader but he’d take on the role for however long was required of him. And not a minute more.
He reached for Annette’s hand, raised it high, and yelled, “Your Ursu, my brothers.”
Her eyes flared wide, comically so, as all of them, tens of dozens of men, suddenly dropped to their knees in a deep bow. To him, their formal greeting would simply be a closed fist tapped over their heart, but to his mate, the woman the Goddesses chose for him, and who would rule at his side, only a deep and heartfelt bow was sufficient.
He smiled, satisfied at the respect all the men gave his mate, and he whispered to her, “They won’t do this all the time. Just on formal occasions.”
She blew out a relieved breath. “Thank God for that!” Annette stared at them, the endless rows of bowed heads, then whispered, “How do you get them to stand again?”
“Rise, children of the Goddesses,” he whispered back, though he knew his brothers would have heard the hushed conversation and were undoubtedly snickering at it.
When she repeated his words, the men stood as one in a seamless wave. She gulped at being the center of attention, but he distracted her by catching Kiko’s gaze and beckoning him over.
“Yes, Prez?”
Mars snorted. “I’m Mars, Kiko. That hasn’t changed.”
Kiko grinned. “Didn’t think it would, but I had to make sure, didn’t I?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
A chuckle sounded, and Major suddenly popped up. “Glad to hear you don’t stand on ceremony, Mars.”
“Like we expected differently,” Mundo chimed in.
Glad that his friends knew him well enough to know that, he jerked his head in the direction of the dead body currently decorating his yard. Christ, his. Because it was. Now Jackson was dead, all this belonged to him. He only held it until the next leader took his place, but still, it was a heady responsibility, one that sat surprisingly well as a burden on his back. “Assign someone to clean up duty.”
Kiko cocked a brow. “Not a prospect?”
Mars shook his head. “They shouldn’t get all the shit jobs.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Derek was a dick head last week on that run over to Austin. Get him to help. And Jinny and Nate too.”
“What did they do?” Mundo asked, his tone was curious so Mars relaxed a little. His friend wasn’t questioning his orders just being plain nosy.
That was Mundo’s biggest problem.
“Jinny decided to sample some of the merchandise.” He cut a glance at Annette who appeared just as inquisitive as Mundo at the notion of what this merchandise was exactly. “And Nate thought it wise to fuck with one of Chico’s girls.”
Kiko groaned. “For fuck’s sake. Why Chico’s?”
Mars turned to Annette and decided to explain, “Chico is one of our clients. He has a posse of women around him, and they’re his. Verboten to any other guy. Nate’s lucky Chico didn’t castrate him, but as it stands, business with him is on shaky ground because of that fucker’s actions.”
She remained silent, simply nodding her understanding, while he turned back to his brothers. “Get those three on it, you hear me?”
Kiko nodded. “I know you have more important things to do…” He waggled his eyebrows. “But who do you want to act as your VP? Jonas?”
Jonas was the next highest rank after him, and it would have made sense to have him as his VP, but Mars shook his head. “You.”
MARS (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 1) Page 9