Bear Their Secret: Wylde Den Three (Alaskan Den Men Book 12)

by Talina Perkins

  Sabine brought her gaze up and smiled, “Siblings,” and narrowed her eyes on the back of a retreating blue parka. “All you wanna do is kill ’em half the time.”

  “I know the feeling. I have seven to your one.” As he spoke his gaze lit lightly on her lips before roving over her long midnight black hair piled around her face and draped over her shoulders from beneath the largest matching white beanie she could find.

  Rone raised a hand between them, and she peeled off her gloves.

  Sabine didn’t believe in magick but she didn’t know how else to describe what happened from one second to the next. She sucked back air, harsh and loud as his expression flashed to pure shock.

  Electricity. Purer than the fresh snow piling at their feet. Raw and unrestrained jolts of it zinged over her skin and zapped her system as their palms slid together, large fingers wrapping around her more slender hand. Locked together, she couldn’t pull her eyes off their connected hands.

  Before their mom died, before the drugs ate away the woman, she had once imparted in Sabine and Cherry that the day would come when the magick, she’d called it, would happen and they would be helpless against fate.

  Not on Sabine’s watch. Steel slipped into her spine. Not now or ever. Nobody would ever take that control from her again.

  She shrugged off the words like she did everything else the woman had ever told her.

  Curious, she flicked her gaze to his. Big mistake. The unreadable mask slipped and the surprise she felt was perfectly portrayed back at her for a brief second before heat simmered in his irises.

  Sex was no mystery to her. She loved the euphoria of an orgasm and the mind-blowing sensations of a lover’s touch, but she had deep suspicions anything with Rone would leave her a boneless puddle. She didn’t need hours with the man to know the intensity within him would burn her beyond recovery.

  All the more reason to back away from the fire.

  That gave her pause. Her sister once mentioned she shared her thoughts and emotions with her mates. But could that be possible for unmated couples? She nearly laughed at herself. Couples? She had no business thinking anything remotely along those lines.

  “Sabine.”

  Although a secret part of her wished he’d said her name like that because he felt the same tug to kiss her as she did, Sabine new better. A wispy fog tangled with her thoughts as sensual images of her legs intertwined with his, their bodies pressed together and surrounded by snow filled her mind.

  She blinked and slowly the sight of snowflakes caught in his rich sable hair filled her visions, this time for real.

  His brows a shade darker than his hair pinched together in a crease. “Sabine?”

  Like tethers fraying, the connection snapped. She cleared her throat and took a half step back, the sights and sounds of the town party slamming into her like a thousand trumpets in her ears. Her gut lurched and for a second she forgot to breathe.

  He felt it too. Or he was damn good at faking surprise. But the shafts of raw emotions shattering his irises didn’t lie. She swallowed past the tight collar that suddenly restricted the flow of air to her lungs. She jerked her hand back and stretched the material.

  He moved to reach out to her but thought better of it and let his hand fall back to his side.

  “So, huh, are we going to do this?” she croaked around a scratchy throat. Her shoulders drooped and her gaze fell to the table where several trays holding silver liquid lined the deep red cloth covering it.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and backed off a step, his gaze roaming over the crowd.

  She could use a stiff drink. Maybe two. And she wouldn’t say no to a third.

  From her lower point of view, his eyes appeared hooded from her as he peered down. “I had no idea they came in pink.”

  That got his attention? She blinked. “What?”

  “Your long johns. You really gonna race in those.”

  She held his gaze and popped the first button at her neck and quickly unhooked the others. His eyes roved over every inch of skin she exposed and his expression darkened when the mounds of her breasts were revealed.

  He threw a hand over hers. “Wait. No Southern rookie is going to freeze on my watch. Button that back up, sweetheart.”

  “You don’t think I can do this?” She popped another button as defiance edged her words and another when his eyes flashed her a sexy warning.

  He leaned in until the only thing she could smell was fresh pine and snow. “If you do I’m afraid for the male population of Claw Ridge.”

  Oh. That only made her want to find out what that entailed, but he had a point and she didn’t relish the fact her nipples would freeze. She willed her heart out of her throat. She could easily blame the heat hitting her cheeks on the freezing bit of air blasting them head on from up the street. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

  She went utterly still, eyes wide when a burst of energy rippled through the air beside her to reveal a bear that was massive and over eight feet tall.

  Sabine felt the second her mouth dropped open.

  “You’ve never seen a shifter before, have you?”

  “Not a shifter that big.”

  “Everett, stop scaring the poor girl.” Rone reached around her and swiped a couple of shots from the table then pressed one into her hands.

  “This will help get the muscles warmed up and take the edge off.” His lips parted and in two seconds every last silvery drop slipped past his lips.

  She raised her cup to Everett, who she knew by name only until now, in salute. “Bottoms up.”

  “Wait!” Rone threw his hand out.

  Rone looked at her across the few feet between them, but too late. Sweet baby Jesus. All the pristine snow turned to a slushy, watery mess behind a wall of instant tears.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human do that before. Hell, even I didn’t take my first swig of Moon Lust that fast and I was a full-grown man.”

  She heard the words, but for the life of her couldn’t manage anything past gasps and gulps. She leaned forward and pressed her hands on her knees, inhaling faster than she could exhale, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. It did, however, make her look like a rabid human.

  Great first impression. Check.

  There were some moments in life that needed a redo button. This was one of them.

  Rone took a knee and clapped her on the back. “Slow and steady. In through the nose and out the mouth. First one is always the hardest. Sorry ’bout that.”

  Finally able to stand, she pressed the back of her hand over her mouth and tried to smile. “Umm, that was hellhound juice. What other being could survive that stuff!”

  Waves of heat poured off Rone as he took a step closer, and she briefly realized he was the sole reason she wasn’t a popsicle.

  Hellfire felt like icicles compared to the flaming torture that consumed the life from the pit of her stomach and spread through her veins and into the back of her throat.

  “I think my life just flashed before my eyes.” The burn bloomed blood deep. Now that the world stopped spinning and swirling behind her tears, she had to admit, the cold didn’t sting as much and the apple cider aftertaste wasn’t so bad. She closed her eyes and reveled in the sweetness as she sensed Rone stand.

  “Everyone, thirty seconds.”

  Rone pressed another drink into her hands. “Guess that means us!”

  “You know the rules, right? We have to run down the road as we drink the Moon Lust and we can’t spill any. And we have to cross the finish line before anyone else.”

  They were so screwed. Liquid heat prickled up her limbs. “Yep. Easy.” She nodded, wide-eyed. This was so not easy.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the next teams are lining up. Racers, are you ready?” The booming voice rang out over the crowd and elicited whistles, woots, and screams from the ladies. She didn’t blame them.

  “Hey, Sabine.”

  She leaned around Rone’s big body to see a leaner
, yet a just as finely toned version of Rone smiling their way, a brunette by his side in a set of blue panties and bra that resembled a 60’s bathing suit. And a scarf to match.

  Huh. Cute, she mused, pushing her glasses up her nose. But she’d take her long johns, thank you very much.

  “Make sure to miss that big patch of ice,” Everett, back in human form, flicked a thumb toward the middle of their side of the road. “Don’t worry, you can’t miss it. See you at the finish line.” He waved, throwing her a saucy wink.

  Game. On.

  “Don’t pay attention to Everett. He’s an idiot.”

  “But the ice. I am a magnet for anything slippery, wet or hard.”

  His lips quirked up with the same smirk his brother had flashed her.

  “In that order?” His words a dark, husky growl.

  Freaking Cherry. She would kill her for this. Right after she popped out that kid.

  Sabine groaned. “Just tie us together and let’s get this over with.” She needed to watch her words.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled with a tip of his imaginary hat.

  Large hands parted her thighs and it wasn’t her imagination that he took extra precaution to not slip too high.

  Now thigh to thigh, he stood and offered her a hand to her elbow for balance. “That’s not too tight, is it?” His eyes darkened as he met her gaze.

  “No.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks and her voice held a flicker of flirtation to her own mortification.

  Cherry swooped in with her ever perfect timing and handed them a tray filled with small plastic cups the size of jello shots. “Don’t spill any or we lose!”

  Rone leaned over and pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. “By the way, long johns turn me on.”

  A single crack rang out over the crowd and all hell broke loose.

  Fact: shit just got real and she was half naked in front of a ton of strangers.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As a woman who never took a step outside of Texas before today, Sabine’s crash course on a real winter had her insides clenching and her eyebrows nearly frozen to the rims of her glasses. “Holy hell.”

  Rone swung his massive leg forward and she either moved her ass or got dragged by the oversized werebear to the finish line.

  She’d much rather get there under her own inertia.

  “Drink,” he commanded, shoving a glass in her hands while his other balanced his side of the tray. It was all she could do to keep up and not lose her grip. They took another step and another, increasing the speed. Faces and voices flashed by and bubbly laughter filled her chest as half of the contents of her glass slipped down her front.

  Stings like a thousand needles punched through the worthless barrier of her socks to stab at her feet. Snow sloshed and fanned out but she didn’t let the bite of the cold slow her. His stride ate up two of hers, and she could see he was forced to slow his pace to match her shorter one.

  A bully blow from a gust of wind nearly did them in and threatened to topple their tray, to the gasps of the crowd. “You spill any, we have to go back and start all over again,” Rone warned, eyes zeroed in on the yellow ribbon that fluttered as a marker for the finish line some twenty yards ahead.

  She tossed an askance glance in Everett’s direction. “Damn, that boy can move.” They were gaining on them. “Get it in gear, werebear.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Rone switched hands on the tray and wrapped his left arm around her waist, the rough calluses of his fingers worked through the soft cotton of her long johns and played havoc with her imagination. Between the two stark contrasts of intense warmth and cold, she couldn’t pick between shivering and sweating. Tossing the tray and working herself around him or keeping in step.

  Their tied leg made the call for her as Rone set their pace.

  Three shots down. Bubbles gurgled in the pit of her stomach and she went back for more before her better judgment slammed into her.

  Rone’s palm pressed her close until their sides connected, her long johns to his naked skin.

  The simple contact ignited a friction between them and she faltered as light filtered through her dilated pupils almost blinded from the shock and sudden burst of light as though she were viewing the world through a shifter’s senses. Wow. Sounds smacked her from all sides as if someone had plugged in a megaphone to a speaker and cranked it too high.

  She scrambled for an explanation but came up empty.

  What the hell?

  Had to be the hooch. Right? But Rone flinched against her and his grip slipped a little. He stumbled but quickly righted himself, and she tightened her hold on the tray, giving him a couple of seconds to right himself before the team effort ate major snow.

  Sabine bit back a curse when she nearly spilled a shot glass as her fingers grew stiff. On the outside, everything felt frozen but on the inside, a furnace roared. She took another shot and propped one to Rone’s lips as he guided them down the street, hands full of her and the tray once again.

  Loud whistles and cheers moved them forward, and the cold dulled as the liquid gave her a false sense of warmth. Or it could have been the furnace tied to her that beat back the cold.

  Either way, they had three strides on Everett, but he and his mate were booking across the cleared path and would be on their tails and fast.

  “Shiiiiittttt... faster, Rone, Pick your feet up!” she yelled around a mouthful of silver. Her liver would be a shriveled little pickle after this, but damn it, that blue ribbon would be theirs! The race suddenly became less about a new nursery for her sister and more about winning at all costs. She was too competitive to lose and her sister knew that.

  Icy wind cut the corner of a building and forced a harsh gasp from her.

  Rone didn’t even flinch.

  Doom approached fast and she had a split second to react.

  Everett had not lied.

  Ice stretched across their half of the road. She threw her one empty hand out and prayed to God she didn’t send them back to the starting line.

  As he wobbled left and right, fear skated across Rone’s expression the split second she dared a glance. By a sheer miracle, he held them together long enough for her to find her footing on the other side of the slick black patch. Her stomach insisted on rolling with the punch, but went forward when she leaned sideways. Her mouth watered as the shots threatened to return, and she scrambled forward and nearly pitched the contents of the tray into the cheering crowd.

  “Whoops.”

  “What’s wrong, little biscuit? Can’t beat a werebear?” She ignored the taunt and earned an evil laugh from her sister’s brother-in-law that carried over the noise of the crowd.

  Damn him. Everett took two steps to their one.

  “Come on, Rone, move it or lose it!”

  His sides rumbled with a deep laughter and fed into her body. When she had a second she’d revisit that sound and think about how it stroked along her nerves and senses in a way that shouldn’t feel as good as it did.

  Rone’s strong grip tightened on her side and she fed on his strength. “I got this. Let’s go!”

  Faces and storefronts rushed by in a blur. The finish line came into view and she pushed harder.

  “Finish the Moon Lust!”

  The burn felt so good now, and she didn’t even mind the snow that sloshed around their feet, and they both ignored the cold wetness slapping them in the face.

  “Got it.” Miracle three hundred of the day—she managed Rone’s pace and downed her last two one after the other. Oh, damn she would feel that later.

  Thundering beat after thundering beat, her heart pounded against bone and air seemed too hard to come by.

  Mouth on fire and eyes full of water, the only thing she could really feel was Rone’s hand and the wisp of silk across her midsection as it snapped.

  Someone grabbed the now empty tray and replaced it with a warm blanket, and Rone reached between them to loosen the sash around their legs and swung her into his arms in
the smoothest move she’d seen since Travolta in Grease.

  Warm, possessive lips claimed hers, and a strong burst of citrus flamed across her tongue as she dipped the tip between his lips. His large hand pressed into the back of her head, the other firmly on her rump as he returned the kiss, delving in for his own taste. Instinct had her head tilting to the side and fingers digging into his slightly wet auburn hair.

  Warm, masculine and…hers?

  She wanted to stay there, tucked between his arms, the cold be damned.

  As if a switched was flipped, Rone tensed beneath her touch and his body turned to stone one muscle at a time.

  He broke the kiss, his lips less than a breath away from hers. Her glasses slipped but she could see the fire in his eyes. The way they lit from within with something more than euphoria over the win.

  Setting her away from him, he bit out, “That shouldn’t have happened.” He tried to work the blanket around her shoulders.

  No warm smile or funny jab, no excuse or explanation. Just a cold rejection.

  A smiled slipped over her lips as she took it all in. She watched as his expression darkened from one second to the next, and his once bright eyes dulled to an echo of what they had been.

  Well, who stole his jar of honey? Feeling stupid and caught up in the excitement, she raised her chin and situated her glasses in place. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, buddy.” She really should have stayed in Houston, told her sister she’d quit school over the phone and stopped being such a freaking pussy.

  According to her guidebook, the sun set way before it should and true to the facts, daylight dimmed to an early evening. Lights sprang to life yet the shadows quickly clung to his face.

  She patted his chest with a couple of quick taps. “I get that all the time.” She jerked away and put several paces between her and the delicious feel of his heat and body wrapped around her before she managed to make a bigger fool of herself.

  Her read on people normally never failed, but with him, boy, she totally missed the target by a mile. She waited as another loud group of people rushed by and scanned each face for something else to focus on besides the brooding man at her back and the odd way it settled in her stomach.