Bears of Burden Complete Series Box Set

by Candace Ayers

  I could hear something else in her words. Something that told me that what she was saying wasn’t the whole truth. I couldn’t guess what else there was to it, though, so let it go. Instead, I tilted my head to the side and showed her the similar bite mark she’d left on my shoulder. Normally, I would’ve healed faster, but for some reason, her mark was staying.

  “For someone who is so against people marking their territory, you sure as hell laid a number on me.”

  Her eyes flamed as she noticed her bite mark for the first time. Then, her breathing quickened and I watched her nipples pebble beneath the thin tank top she wore. I wanted nothing more than to drag her to me and take her again. I could hear the group closing in on us, though.

  “We both got a little carried away, Georgia. I don’t regret it, though. There’s a reason we both let ourselves go.”

  “What’s that?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Some people are just meant to be together, sugar. Looks like you’re the lucky one, after all. You get to keep all of this.”

  Her lips parted as I flexed my arm muscles and then grinned at her. “Don’t be mean to me. I’ll be distracted by it all day and then people could get hurt.”

  She snapped back to reality as leaves crunched, letting us know we weren’t going to be alone for much longer. She shook her head, clearing it, and then gave me a growl of her own. “That’s a cheap way to get me to be nice to you, Wyatt.”

  I scooted closer to her and stole a kiss. “I’m willing to be cheap if it gets you in my shelter again.”

  She sighed. “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”

  I grinned against her mouth and kissed her again just as Martha and Bill came into view with Sarah hobbling behind them. I didn’t care. I was with my mate. They’d just have to deal with me not being on my most professional behavior for a couple of days.

  I looked over at Georgia. Maybe more than a couple of days… Maybe forever.

  The second day was usually spent teaching the basics, but everyone with us had been through survival training before and half of them were old pros. Martha hadn’t been kidding when she said she could’ve taught me a thing or two. Bill, too, probably. Considering Martha was a shifter, too, she was just as at home as I was in the outdoors.

  Instead of the normal stuff about how to build a real, tried and true shelter, a fire, and stuff like that, we were moving on to eating. I kept Georgia close to my side as I taught the group a new trap.

  She’d paled at the idea of trapping a live animal then killing it to eat and survive. Instead of complaining and running from the scene, though, she stood by my side and even attempted to make the trap once. I refrained from pointing out that her trap wouldn’t have caught a snail.

  She’d perked right up at the idea of picking berries and had managed to come away from the experience with stained fingers and lips. Her smell surrounded me and I sported a boner the entire time we were there. There was nothing I could do about it.

  While we traipsed all over the mountain, she eventually kicked off her flip flops and braved the elements in just her bare feet. I silently vowed that I’d rub them once we were finished. She was doing her best to learn and adapt and it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.

  My final demonstration of the day, before I released everyone to go out and scavenge for their dinner, was fishing. I taught them how to do it with just a sharpened stick and a piece of vine. While the rest of the group was getting the hang of it, I made my way to Georgia and smiled.

  “You having fun yet?”

  Her eyes lit up as she looked up at me. She was waist deep in a stream, her clothes soaked from splashing around, and she’d somehow managed to get mud on her forehead. “This part, this is fun!”

  I moved into the water behind her, wrapping my arms around her under the guise of helping her fish. “Here. Sometimes, the stick throwing method works better for people who are a little taller and can get a little more motion behind them. You can always use an earring or something similar as a hook, too. Part of surviving is using what you have.”

  I always kept a hook in my pocket while teaching, in case someone needed a little extra help. I could tell that, even though she was enthusiastic, Georgia was going to need extra help. A lot of it.

  I pulled her over to the bank with me and pointed at the mud. “Find yourself a fat worm.”

  Her face said it all. There was no way she was going to stick her hand in the mud to grab a worm.

  “Sugar, as much as I’m holding you hostage here to be close to you, I’m also doing it to teach you something. In case you ever need it. So, go ahead. Stick your hand in there and find a worm.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Wyatt.” She was shaking her head fervently. “That’s gross. Beyond gross. I don’t want to touch a worm and I don’t want to kill one, either.” Her nose crinkled as she thought more about it. “Let’s go back to the spear method. Maybe if I find a rock to stand on or something, I’ll be able to do it.”

  “Okay, we’ll practice without the bait for right now. Let me just show you how to throw it out.”

  I should’ve known better than to give my little hell-cat something sharp to throw around.

  19

  Georgia

  I did everything just the way Wyatt showed me. I drew back the little stick with the vine and hook connected and then I jerked it forward. I wasn’t prepared for the tug I felt or Wyatt instantly swearing from where he stood behind me.

  I turned around and looked up at him with wide eyes. “What?!”

  Scowling, he took the makeshift pole from me without a word, turned and limped away. His silence was eerie.

  I followed him, worried that I’d done something to upset him. “Wyatt, what happened?”

  He sat down on the bank and looked down at his leg. His leg, where there was a shiny, silver hook jammed in. He swore some more and then just rested his elbows on his knees and took a couple breaths. How was he the picture of relaxation despite there being a fish hook in him?

  I, on the other hand, went into full blown panic mode. I’d injured my mate. I’d stuck a freaking hook into him. “Help! Someone, help! I hooked Wyatt!”

  Wyatt started laughing, his eyes crinkling in a distracting way and his hands wrapped around his middle clenching his stomach as he roared.

  “Oh, god. He’s going into shock!” I knelt in front of him and cupped his face in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Hang on, baby, just hang on.”

  He sobered up and held my gaze. “Sugar, it’s okay. I’m fine. It’s going to hurt like a bitch to pull out, but I’m not dying. It’s just a scratch, really.”

  I looked back at it and felt a wave of nausea roll around in my stomach. Scratch, my ass. He was hooked deep. I stifled a gag and nodded. “Sure. Just a scratch. No big deal.”

  He looked up as Martha came over. “It’s okay, Martha. Just got a hook in my leg. Nothing I can’t handle. Why don’t you lead the others back to the traps to see if anything is caught in them?”

  She nodded and headed away like getting a hook in your leg was perfectly normal.

  I put my hands on Wyatt’s thighs and searched his face for signs of distress. When I found none, I blew out a big breath. “This isn’t that big of a deal?”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re not going to want to watch, though.”

  I glanced at where his fingers were gripping the hook and gasped. “Wyatt! You can’t just pull it out. You need stitches and a doctor and…medicine. You definitely need medicine.”

  He cupped my face in his hand and turned it towards his. “I’m fine. Just a little tug and it’ll be out.”

  I looked back down at his leg right as he tugged the hook. Blood and skin ripped out and I felt the world sway. There was blood everywhere. On his hands, on his leg, on the rocks beside him. “Too much…blood.”

  “Georgia?”

  Wyatt’s voice faded as my vision grew dark and fuzzy at the corne
rs. I felt my stomach roll again as the rocks rushed towards my face.

  The first things I noticed when I came to were the fact that I was wearing different clothes and my hair was wet. I sat up and groaned. My forehead hurt and I cringed as I felt the skin there. On one side, there was a goose egg from Sarah, and on the other, rough skin that felt like several little scratches.

  “I caught you before you really banged your head around, but your forehead still caught the gravel.”

  I looked over at Wyatt and frowned. “You dropped me, didn’t you?”

  He laughed. “As much as I love your confidence in me, no. I didn’t drop you. You just fell away from me. I did what I could. You’re okay, though.”

  I looked at his leg and noticed there was nothing there. Not even a scratch. I wanted to ask, but I figured it had to be something to do with his shifter abilities, so I kept my mouth shut. The more time I spent with him, the more I was worried that we didn’t fit at all. I didn’t want to reveal to him that I knew about mates. If I did, he’d know that I knew that we were supposedly bound forever.

  It sucked. Contrary to what I’d have him believe, I liked being around him. I liked him, but it was obvious that we couldn’t be more different. He made me laugh and I couldn’t help but be attracted to him. Yet, I still knew that it wasn’t right. Even if I was the kind of girl who kept men around for longer that a couple weeks, I needed a man more attuned to my lifestyle. A man whose mere existence didn’t threaten my safety with poison ivy pits and fishing hooks. A man who wasn’t more accustomed to killing animals for his dinner and living barefoot in the mountains than having dinner in a four-star restaurant.

  Those bare feet were almost enough to be my undoing, though. I couldn’t help but look at them. So out of place among the rocks and dried leaves on the ground, and yet so right. His feet were long and tan, a match to his long body. They were clean, despite the elements, and some weird part of me wanted to touch the tops of them to feel the light dusting of hair there. They were the feet of a man, a wild man.

  I didn’t know how I was supposed to deal with letting him go when even his feet made me swoon. None of this make sense.

  “You look like you’re experiencing a bunch of emotions over there. How do you feel?”

  We were alone by his shelter. I looked up and met his eyes and my heart immediately raced. I tried to ignore it. It didn’t know what it needed. It was stupid. “Like I don’t belong.”

  His face darkened and he scooted closer to me. He caught one of my own feet in his hands and started massaging it. “You belong.”

  I just shook my head. I was suddenly feeling like a big, ugly wart. I was out of place. I didn’t belong here. I was a hindrance to anything he wanted to do with the rest of the group. He probably did need someone like Sarah. Someone who could be a partner to him. Someone who wouldn’t accidently walk off the side of the mountain if left to her own devices.

  I shook my head again. What was I thinking? What had gotten into me? It didn’t matter what he needed. I didn’t need him. Right? Right. That was the way I’d lived my whole life. Never needing any man. Never thinking about what a man needed from me because it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be around long enough to give it to them, anyway.

  Yet, looking at Wyatt, I was plagued with thoughts of all the things he would need that I didn’t have. How was it possible that a man who could squelch every doubt and insecurity I’d ever had about my body in a matter of hours could also be a man who made me doubt everything about the way I’d lived my whole life?

  “Bill caught a couple of squirrels for dinner.”

  Yeah, it was about time for me to get back to the city. At least the town. The universe had messed up when assigning mates. I couldn’t be farther from the right woman for Wyatt. I meant, he couldn’t be farther from right for me.

  Although, if that was true, why did it hurt so bad to think about letting him be with Sarah, a woman who was clearly a better fit for him?

  20

  Wyatt

  Georgia had been mostly silent since she’d regained consciousness. She’d just been staring at me and every so often mouthing things to herself. If I was a weaker man, it would’ve scared the hell out of me. She was a thinker and if the frown on her face was any indication, the thoughts weren’t good. I felt like she was searching me, looking for flaws. Her eyes had lost their heat and gained something cold and calculating that told me she was probably quite good at heading a large corporation.

  “I washed your hair in the creek. You threw up in it a little bit.”

  Her eyes widened and then she finally looked away from me. “So, squirrels, huh?”

  I grabbed her other foot and rubbed it. They were still muddy from fishing and I found myself knocking off dried bits as I went. A little mud didn’t bother me, but her face froze in horror when she noticed what I was doing. She snatched her foot away from me and curled it under herself.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Stupid question.

  Her eyes narrowed and some of the heat returned. “What’s wrong? Seriously? I pushed someone into a pit of poison ivy, hooked you through the leg, wounded myself multiple times, and I look like death warmed over. I can’t even see my face, not that I want to, but I can imagine how awful it is. I’m meant for salons and spas and cordon bleu. Not squirrel!”

  I looked up at the darkening sky and blew out a breath. “I thought you were having fun today. You seemed happy while you were fishing.”

  She hesitated a second, but then her determination set her chin up a notch higher. “Do you know what I normally do? I throw parties—all kinds of parties. I throw wild parties that involve lots of liquor, sometimes male strippers. I throw fundraisers that command a thousand dollars a plate. I throw parties that involve caterers, fancy finger foods, and sometimes chocolate fountains! That’s right, fountains of chocolate. Fountains of chocolate make me happy.”

  Annoyance chewed at me. “Do they?”

  There was another hesitation. One big enough for me to drive a truck through. “Yes. They do. I want to go home.”

  I felt myself growing angrier and angrier. She wasn’t just insulting Wyatt the guide. She was insulting me. Rejecting me. Pain seared through me like a dagger, but I ignored it in favor of anger. “Fine. You can run back home to your parties and chocolate fountains. Tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to join the campfire and at least make an attempt to have fun. Pretend if you have to.”

  A handful of rocks suddenly hit my legs. She scowled at me. “You’re not my father. You don’t tell me what to do.”

  “Did your father ever actually tell you what to do? Did he lay down any rules for his precious princess? Because it sure as hell seems like you’ve spent your whole life doing only what you want when you want. Branch out some. Don’t be such a spoiled brat.” I was on a roll. “Also, no more male strippers. Jesus, Georgia.”

  She surprised me by snapping her mouth shut and nodding. When she did speak, the cold, hard look was back in her eyes. I could detect a sliver of pain, but she tried to hide it. “You’re closer to the truth than you know. You know what? I think I will try to have more fun tonight. That sounds perfect.”

  I watched in horror as she dragged a bottle of tequila from her bag, a bottle I’d somehow managed to miss when she was repacking her clothes into my knapsack. I’d been too distracted by the tiny underwear. “You can’t drink on a survival tour, sugar.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Try and stop me. And, stop calling me sugar. I’m not your sugar. I’m not your anything.”

  I wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her but I didn’t trust myself not to actually shake her, so I kept my hands to myself. “Fine. Get drunk and then get yourself killed. Smart.”

  She stood up, clutching at the pants I’d pulled onto her, and glared at me. “This conversation is over.”

  I grabbed her arm as she tried to pass me and yanked her down, into my lap. “We’re not done here.”

  She fought against my hold but
it was useless. I wrapped one arm across her chest and another across her hips and tucked my chin into her neck so she wouldn’t be able to headbutt me. It didn’t take long for all the fight to drain out of her.

  “I hate you right now.”

  The words stung like a slap to the face. An ache formed in my chest that took away my breath and knocked the fight right out of me. I hadn’t thought things through enough. She could walk away from me. She was going to walk away from me. She didn’t fit into my life any more than I fit into hers. I’d marked a woman who wasn’t going to stay with me.

  The realization struck me hard and I pushed her away from me while climbing to my feet. I needed to shift. I needed to run and roar and claw the shit out of something.

  “You can find the group. I’ll be back later.”

  I didn’t look back as I left. I just wanted to escape. I yanked my shirt off as I went and struggled to hold on, barely making it out of sight before shifting. My bear roared, his pain just as palpable as my own.

  I’d spent the time she was unconscious planning how I was going to tell her about my bear, about shifters and ma tes, about everything. I knew she’d be freaked out, but I thought it would be okay. Turns out I worried needlessly. There was no point revealing my secrets to a woman who didn’t want me. She’d said it herself. She hated me.

  I climbed to the highest point of the mountain and released another roar. My heart was breaking, cracking in two, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My mate didn’t want me. Somehow, the universe had messed up.

  I thought of my own parents and the awe with which Mom talked about being mated. She’d loved Dad with her whole heart and then some. I didn’t understand why things didn’t happen for me the way they had for them. I guess sometimes it just didn’t work out.