Sanctuary in the Bear Shifter's Arms: A MM Shifter Bonding Alpha Mates Romance (Primal Roar Book 1)

by JW Constantine

  Sanctuary in the Bear Shifter’s Arms

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright JW Constantine 2018

  Amazon Edition

  Electronic book publication October 2018

  After bear shifter Ryan is driven away from his mate and life in the Ursu Clan, he runs into the wilds of Canada. In the Medve Territory he is welcomed into the Sanctuary where Dr. Dirk Dreyer is determined to help him live through the debilitating withdrawal he experiences from losing his mate.

  But Dirk is stirred by this devastated shifter who he calls Young Bear. As an older, unmated shifter, Dirk finds a brand new desire when it comes to Ryan. He longs to heal him—and claim him. When their bodies and souls finally come together, it’s explosive. But will the return of Ryan’s mate cut their ties before they’re firmly knotted?

  Sanctuary in the Bear Shifter’s Arms

  Book 1

  Primal Roar Series

  by

  JW Constantine

  -Chapter One-

  As the paw slashed at his face, Ryan dragged a searing breath into his lungs. Brown-black fur and powerful jaws flashed across his vision.

  He twisted to the side, raising the scent of crushed grass.

  “No, stop!”

  The bear swiped at Ryan, and one claw sliced into the flesh on his neck.

  Pain ricocheted through him. He thrashed out of reach, a bellow of rage and hurt building in his chest.

  But the sound wouldn’t come out. It was trapped.

  Ryan forced his eyes open, gasping for air. Sweat soaked his forehead and made his T-shirt cling to his chest. The hammering of his heart brought bile to the back of his throat.

  He leaned over the bed and vomited into the bucket the nurse had set there.

  “Oh Ryan,” the night nurse, Maureen, murmured. Then to someone else in the room, she said, “Get Dr. Dreyer.”

  The pattering of rubber-soled shoes moved away.

  Ryan clung to the edge of the hard bed, sucking in deep breaths through his nose between his stomach’s efforts to turn inside out.

  A cool cloth on his forehead gave him a measure of focus, and he was able to shake the dream a little bit.

  It’s not a dream. Anders really did try to kill me.

  His mate, the love of his life. When Anders had chosen Ryan out of all the bear shifters in the entire Ursu Clan, Ryan had believed it was forever. Mates never turned on each other.

  Except this time.

  As the Alpha for the clan, Anders had the right to run off any member, and he’d succeeded with Ryan.

  But even after three weeks of debilitating withdrawal and bone-deep need for his mate, Ryan wasn’t any closer to understanding why his lover would attack him.

  “Dr. Dreyer is here, Ryan. He’ll know what to do.” Maureen removed the cloth from his forehead.

  He slumped back on the bed, aware of his weak limbs and inability to care if he lived or died. Dr. Dreyer might keep patching him up enough to keep his heart beating, but Ryan wanted it to stop.

  Without Anders, he’d always know this dark longing. During the mating ritual they’d shared their blood and bodies, guaranteeing Ryan would forever be part of Anders. Their souls were linked—bound.

  At least they were. Ryan’s throat closed up as emotion overwhelmed him.

  The bed dipped under someone’s weight—a familiar weight he now knew as Dr. Dirk Dreyer.

  “Tuessi Appopbi,” Dr. Dreyer chanted, moving his strong hands over Ryan’s abs. He probed gently enough so Ryan didn’t lose his stomach again, yet his touch was sure. In the past few weeks since Ryan had escaped the Ursu Clan with his life and taken sanctuary in the wilds of the Medve Territory, Ryan had grown to count on this soothing touch.

  “Dues tu Bovo.” The rhythm of his incantation accentuated Dr. Dreyer’s light caress over Ryan’s ribs, pecs, and up to his throat. The knot of tears eased instantly. The doctor was a gifted healer, able to soothe even this complicated and impossible pain of loss.

  At least for a short time.

  Ryan issued a shaky breath.

  “Close your eyes, Young Bear. Let my magic take hold.”

  Maureen replaced the cool cloth on his forehead, and he did as he was instructed. The sickness of withdrawal ebbed slightly. Would he ever get used to denying his need for Anders?

  “Calm, Young Bear.” Dr. Dreyer slid his warm hands over Ryan’s jaw up to cup his cheeks. How many times had the doc caught Ryan’s tears with his warm, smooth fingers? Shame burned in his gut.

  “Maureen, the music please.”

  The haunting tones of a Chinese flute filtered into the room. Ryan listened to Dr. Dreyer’s voice and absorbed the music until the sickness was a small kernel in his stomach.

  When he opened his eyes, Dr. Dreyer was staring down at him. The gentle expression battled with the hard features of a warrior. The doctor’s cheekbones stood out sharply, and his square jaw was set as he studied Ryan’s face.

  “This was harsher, wasn’t it?” His tone held a note of resignation.

  “Yes.” Ryan wanted to slide his gaze away, but the doctor had a way of pinning him and looking deeply.

  Too deep.

  Maureen made a tsking sound and began to fish in the wooden dresser for a dry set of clothes for Ryan. After one of his withdrawal episodes he was left soaked in sweat.

  “Bring soup and clear juices for our patient, Maureen. I’ll help him into dry clothes.”

  Ryan looked at the doctor hard. Did he really intend to help Ryan change? That was a job for a nurse—or better yet, Ryan would find the strength to do it himself.

  Maureen set a pair of loose cotton pants and a T-shirt on the bed and then scuttled out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

  Ryan swung his legs off the mattress, determined to sit up, to stand, to overcome this debilitating soul sickness that plagued his weak body. His mind was not weak—he was a warrior of the Ursa Clan and once he had been regarded with high honor. He’d been awarded medals and the sword of glory for what he’d done in the Battle of the Hollow Lands. The battle where he and Anders had first met.

  He started to get up and dropped back to the bed, weak and perspiring. His lungs rasped with the effort of exertion when once he’d been able to run up a hill fully garbed in battle attire and wielding a sword and mace.

  Plastering a hand to his forehead, he fought for more strength.

  Dr. Dreyer reached out and cupped Ryan’s cheek. The touch created a rasping noise. When had he last shaved?

  There was no magic in this touch, just simple kindness from one living being to another. Maybe that was the real magic in Dreyer.

  “I can do it,” he grated out.

  “I know you can.”

  He stared into the doctor’s eyes for a long heartbeat, longing for the espresso brown of Anders’ eyes rather than the clear forest green of Dirk Dreyer’s. He wasn’t sure if the good doctor meant he knew Ryan could get up or if he could win this internal war. The withdrawals were enough to kill the strongest bear shifter, and he wasn’t so sure he counted himself as strong anymore.

  Dr. Dreyer removed his hands from Ryan’s face and caught his elbow, helping him to a stand. Ryan stood there swaying on his bare feet while the doctor moved to the table at the side of the room where the nurses had placed clean linens, bed pads to soak up his sweat and ice water in a glass pitcher.

  As the man who had taken in a sick, stray bear shifter poured ice w
ater into a glass like a common nurse and not a man of his station, Ryan watched his economical movements. His strong fingers were long and tapered, the nails oval, unlike Anders’ blunt, square ones.

  He crossed the room, holding out the glass. But Ryan was too weak to balance himself and raise an arm to take it. So Dreyer brought the glass to Ryan’s lips.

  Embarrassment mingled with self-disgust and with a grunt, he grasped the glass, his fingers wrapping just above the doctor’s, his pinky brushing the other man’s. He fought to keep from vomiting again. His body repelled the touch of anyone but Anders.

  The doctor released the glass and took a step back, leaving Ryan feeling worse for his treatment of the kind man.

  “Thank you.” He tipped the contents into his mouth, relishing the crisp spring water on his parched tongue.

  After he’d drained the glass, he met Dr. Dreyer’s steady gaze. A muscle in his jaw fluttered, and Ryan locked his stare on the small movement. He’d been trained as a warrior to pick up every little nuance of a man. But his inner bear kept a watchful eye, always.

  The flutter said Dr. Dreyer wasn’t as calm as he projected on the surface.

  “You think I should shift.” Ryan’s statement fell into the silence between them.

  Dr. Dreyer took the chair next to the bed, hitched his ankle onto his knee and leaned back. “It would help you recover faster.”

  Blue moonlight pooled on the hardwood floor. Ryan focused on it until his eyes blurred. “I can’t,” he said softly after a long minute.

  The doctor blew out a swift breath. “Ryan, I wish you wouldn’t fight me on this. Being in your bear state is natural. If you would only—”

  “No.” Ryan slashed a hand in the air. Shifting into the form Anders had loved and protected would only bring on the insanity Ryan was barely holding at bay.

  For the first time he saw Dr. Dreyer’s composed façade crack. The doctor seemed to age as he knitted his thick brown brows together and pressed his lips into an uneven line. But his eyes… they burned like two electrified emeralds.

  Ryan set down the glass with a thunk and yanked on his pants. The cotton felt good against his damp, chilled skin, but the doctor’s touch had felt better.

  No, Anders’ rough, thorough loving was what Ryan needed. He started to shake.

  As he fumbled to remove his shirt and replace it with the dry one, Dr. Dreyer released an impatient sigh. He stood. “Dammit, let me help you.” He gripped the hem that was worked halfway up Ryan’s chest and pulled the shirt off. When he reached for the dry shirt in Ryan’s hands, their fingers brushed.

  Ryan jerked away, his inner animal snarling at the contact when all he wanted—needed—was Anders.

  “Dr. Dreyer—”

  “Dirk. Call me Dirk.”

  Ryan swallowed hard at the dusky undertones the doctor used. A hint of fire flashed in Dirk’s eyes, revealing he wasn’t always denying his own beast. The sudden urge to see this man in all his animal glory burned hot and bright in Ryan.

  He stumbled back a step. Dirk grabbed his biceps to steady him. Then with a fierce expression, he took the shirt and dressed him.

  Ryan dropped his gaze, unable to draw a full breath. “Thank you,” he muttered.

  * * * * *

  Dirk scraped his fingers through his hair, fighting to regain his cool. But when it came to this particular bear, his struggles seemed endless.

  When Ryan had arrived at the big metal gates leading to the Medve Sanctuary, he’d been bloody, his spirit torn. Dirk had been called to his room immediately, and it only took a glance to realize Ryan’s mate had turned on him.

  Why it happened no one knew for certain. Sometimes the stronger of the pair would experience jealousy at normal friendships. Other times a bear simply wanted a new mate, though most shifters didn’t know this fact. Since taking on duties as healer at the Sanctuary, Dirk had seen it more than once.

  It happened, but for Ryan, it devastated.

  The Sanctuary had been set up to provide solace and healing to shifters from all over the world. They came here for various reasons, but too often lately Dirk had seen mates being forced away from their lover and clan.

  Ryan stood tall and proud, his lean, roped body still quivering. A good meal and sleep would do wonders for him, but so would shifting.

  His bear form would provide a sanctuary of its own—one no one could penetrate. While inside he would be free of the torment of daily life and dreams. Why was the stubborn man denying his bear form?

  Not for the first time Dirk considered the mystery surrounding Ryan. After working with dozens of abandoned mates, he’d never seen one with so much pain in his eyes. The golden brown depths haunted Dirk. Even when he was busy with group therapy or individual sessions, he found it difficult to completely forget about Ryan.

  Young Bear. He’d been thinking of Ryan this way since the start. The handsome shifter couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old. He refused to speak of his past, so his file was very thin. Once Dirk got him past the worst of the withdrawal, he hoped to get Ryan to open up.

  Maureen entered with a tray bearing hot soup, soda, juice, and two paper cups. She shot Ryan a smile and set the tray on the table that rolled over the bed. Ryan didn’t move, hands clenched, face turned slightly away from Dirk and a frown between his straight brows.

  How many times had Dirk studied Ryan’s face, wondering what he looked like in shifted form? Lean and strong, long-limbed, a warm brown, thick coat that matches his hair.

  Dirk shook himself and moved toward the door. Ryan would refuse to eat while Dirk was around. Taking a meal with another male would challenge the bond Ryan held with his former mate. Bears only hunted, scavenged, and ate together. Instinctively, Ryan would try to preserve his bond.

  Even if the bastard who did this to him obviously didn’t give a damn.

  As Dirk passed Ryan, their gazes briefly met. A sharp hook tugged in Dirk’s chest—emotion he couldn’t afford to feel for any patient let alone one who was mated. Besides, he got a distinct feeling Ryan didn’t like him.

  Pushing his legs to continue carrying him out the door, Dirk dragged in a deep breath. It was impossible not to react to the masculine, earthy scent surrounding Ryan. He quickened his pace and strode down the hallway decorated in soothing shades of blue.

  When he reached the end of the hall, he avoided turning toward his office. He spent entirely too much time there poring over paperwork. It was time for a break.

  He headed outside. The thick forest crept right up to the door of the Sanctuary. The Medve Territory was hidden in the Canadian wilderness, far from human paths. When so many bears roamed and shifted unexpectedly, it was important to remain hidden from the outside world.

  The wind freshened, bringing pine, juniper, and the sweet spice of fallen leaves. Autumn was the prime mating season. Most bears snagged up their mates early in life, but Dirk had managed to grow to be forty-two without ever finding that special bear.

  His friends told him he was born to heal others, and that he couldn’t argue with. At eight years of age, he’d come across a bruised and battered female bear, taken her home with him and nursed her to health using various barks and herbs gathered from the fields. What he’d never told a living soul was that the magic ran in his veins even then.

  While the female slept one night, Dirk had wandered into her room at the sound of whimpers. As he’d reached out, the glow had begun around his fingertips and he’d let that glow spread over the bear’s injuries, finally holding it directly over her heart.

  In the morning, she was gone without a trace, which could only mean she’d been well enough to travel far, as her kind did at this time of the mating season.

  After that, Dirk had practiced the glowing magic many, many times, on forest creatures, mostly. A squirrel with a hurt leg, a bird’s broken wing. By the time he reached adolescence, the glow was gone from his fingers yet the magic had grown stronger. He later had learned that the inexperienced could n
ot wield the invisible magic and it always left a trace. But he’d mastered it within a few years.

  This land stirred him, brought out a feeling of coming home and a restless urge all at once. He’d never quite put his finger on the latter but he chalked it up to helping others. The need to heal—fast and thoroughly.

  He feared he was failing Ryan terribly.

  The wind brought a scent of juniper and a deeper note of berries that must be gathered for those needing healing sleeps. He made a mental note to tell his personal assistant, Josef, to gather a crew and head into the woods with baskets to recover the fruit.

  As the breeze teased his clothes, Dirk shook his head against the urge to shift. Running free, sprinting through the dense landscape, seemed the only ease he’d get from his torment when it came to Ryan.

  What more could he do to help the young bear, though?

  His bear stretched, clawed at his insides. He lengthened his steps, and the next time his foot fell, it was a paw. The shifter’s magic took care of clothing, which was a damn good thing. He was wearing his favorite pair of shoes.

  The spongy forest floor felt good under his paws. His belly swayed close to the ground, revealing how old he really was. High time to find a mate, his clan would say, but he was far from believing that would ever happen.

  But his body stirred at the thought of the ritual of mating. Biting into his mate’s neck and drawing blood. Then offering his own neck. Finally taking his lover’s body until they shook with release.

  Bear shifters could make love in human form and not necessarily bond. But he’d heard the first time was usually so emotional, mates preferred to join as bears.

  Dark need slithered into Dirk’s center as he thought of Ryan. How would he feel under him, his arms and legs around Dirk as Dirk slowly plunged in and out of his body?

  He shifted back, his erection instantly distending his khakis. This thinking would do him no good. It would only torment him to fantasize about Ryan. But while he couldn’t entertain the thought of having the young bear as his own, Dirk could damn well do his best to find release for Ryan.