Royal Bear (P.O.L.A.R. Series Book 5)

by Candace Ayers

  Copyright © 2019 by Lovestruck Romance.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book is intended for adult readers only.

  Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Story Description

  1. Grace

  2. Konstantin

  3. Grace

  4. Grace

  5. Konstantin

  6. Grace

  7. Konstantin

  8. Grace

  9. Grace

  10. Konstantin

  11. Grace

  12. Konstantin

  13. Grace

  14. Konstantin

  15. Grace

  16. Konstantin

  17. Grace

  18. Konstantin

  19. Grace

  20. Grace

  21. Konstantin

  22. Konstantin

  23. Grace

  24. Konstantin

  25. Grace

  26. Grace

  27. Konstantin

  NEXT BOOK…

  Join our group

  Special Offer

  Other books from Candace Ayers…

  Royal Bear

  P.O.L.A.R.

  Candace Ayers

  Lovestruck Romance

  Author’s Note

  P.O.L.A.R. (Private Ops: League Arctic Rescue) is a specialized, private operations task force—a maritime unit of polar bear shifters. Part of a world-wide, clandestine army comprised of the best of the best shifters, P.O.L.A.R.’s home base is Siberia…until the team pisses somebody off and gets re-assigned to Sunkissed Key, Florida and these arctic shifters suddenly find themselves surrounded by sun, sand, flip-flops and palm trees.

  In the search for her missing brother,

  Free-spirited Grace

  finds some firsts—

  friends, family, a home,

  and a hot shifter who captures her heart.

  To claim Grace as his mate,

  Konstantin must not only renounce his title

  and shun his duties,

  he must betray his friends.

  Being a Royal Bear is a royal b*tch.

  1

  Grace

  Mid November mornings were colder than a witch’s tit in South Dakota. The seasons had snuck up on me this year. Normally, Freebird, Damocles and I would have already headed farther south by this time of year.

  Freebird was my home on wheels, a converted sprinter van. Even though her single pane windows were covered with thickly-padded blackout blinds at night, she wasn’t insulated well for these colder temperatures.

  Usually the only tools I had in my arsenal to combat the chill were a hot water bottle for my toes, a thick down comforter, and my not-so-friendly tabby cat, Damocles. This morning, I had an extra tool. He was still asleep.

  Ted was sawing logs on the pillow next to mine. Or was his name Ed? Maybe Fred. Pretty sure it was something that rhymed with dead. Which was appropriate considering the quality of our party in the sheets last night.

  I rolled off the 4-inch foam mattress and padded naked over to the little cubby where I stored my clothes. Shivering, I threw on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt with #vanlife written across the front, then started the propane burner under my mini coffee percolator.

  I lived a roving existence, traveling from state to state wherever whim—and weather—took me, and Freebird enabled me to remain off-grid.

  My peripatetic lifestyle gave me the opportunity to appreciate all the beauty this country had to offer, from the quaint fishing villages of coastal Maine to the flat prairies of waving Kansas wheat, to the old western ghost towns that dotted the Nevada desert.

  It also meant I never put down roots, never developed friendships, and was never anything but an outsider, a nomad—a perpetual stranger. This was the life I’d always known. The life I’d lived ever since I could remember.

  My current place of residence, if it could be called such, was the Black Hills of the South Dakota Badlands. For four months, I’d been parked out in wilderness shaped by buttes and harsh, white-clay terrain washed nearly barren from centuries of flash flooding. Most mornings, the grassy mesas were speckled with prairie dogs, grazing wild bison, and the occasional big horned sheep.

  As I tore the blackout pads off the windows, hoping it would serve to rouse Fred, Damocles sat coolly giving me the evil eye. Not sure if it was because I slept late and his breakfast was delayed, or because he was pissed at having to share our tiny living space with Fred. Ed? To say he wasn’t keen on strangers was an understatement.

  As a peace offering, I opened a can of his favorite 9 Lives, seafood flavored, and set it on the floor in front of him. Then, I glanced over at the sleeping Ned. He needed to go. I was eager to head into town to check my emails. I’d been waiting impatiently for an email from my brother Gray for the past two weeks. Five years older than me, Gray was just about as nomadic and hard to pin down as I was. With each of us always on the move, and frequently in different time zones, we’d tired of trying to reach each other by phone years ago. A simple email on the first and the fifteenth of every month was how we kept in touch and assured one another we were still alive and kicking.

  And, for seven years now, like clockwork, we emailed on our scheduled days. Seven years without fail. Never missed…until two weeks ago. When I didn’t hear back from Gray on the first of November, I told myself not to panic. I waited a full two weeks without panicking. Yesterday was the fifteenth and I emailed again. Nothing. If I didn’t hear from him today…well, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. My stomach twisted into a knot at the thought.

  “Debbie…”

  “Debbie…?”

  I suddenly realized Jed was awake. Damn, I had to start remembering what name I gave my overnight guests. Not that Damocles, Freebird and I entertained many overnight guests. It wasn’t a frequent habit, but hey, a girl had needs. I smiled at Ned, which apparently served to encourage him.

  “So I was thinking, Debbie, there’s supposed to be a storm front moving in later tonight. Maybe you and me could head to town this afternoon and take in a movie or something? What do you say?”

  “Er…not today. I have a full workday planned.”

  Ted looked dejected. “Okay, maybe an early dinner?”

  Gee, Ed, take a hint.

  I smiled tightly then cleared my throat. “Look, last night was great and all…”

  As I paused to select my words carefully, an old Janice Joplin tune ran through my head: “Don’t you know that you’re nothing more than a one-night stand. Tomorrow I’ll be on my way…”

  Fortunately, Ed was intuitive enough to pick up what I was putting down. “But you’re kicking me to the curb, is that it?”

  I shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it that way…”

  “Naw, it’s okay, I get it.” To give Ned credit, he didn’t try to persuade me that he was the next great love of my life if only I’d give him a chance. He merely nodded, said his goo
dbye, and even tried to pat Damocles on the head before he left. Damocles hissed and the hair stood up along his spine. Typical. The cat would have gotten a chunk of flesh if Ned hadn’t pulled his hand back so quickly. Grumpy cat.

  Relieved that my overnight guest wasn’t a cling-on, I folded my comforter, tucked away my bedding and transformed my bed platform back into a bench sofa. Then, sipping on my first cup of liquid energy, I grabbed a granola bar and slipped into the driver’s seat for the daily half hour commute to Wall. As if on cue, Damocles leaped into the copilot’s seat, curled up, and began his morning tongue bath.

  The sky was gray and overcast as I pulled onto the road that led into town. Sure looked as though the weather forecast was on point. A storm was predicted to come in later that night and was supposed to bring in even colder weather and maybe some snow.

  I figured that was a good enough sign as any that it was time to get out of South Dakota and head for warmer weather.

  2

  Konstantin

  “Watch out!”

  I’d already seen the volleyball sailing through the air, headed my way, and twisted easily to lob it back. I nodded to the grinning bikini-clad players before turning back to continue staring out at the ocean. As I breathed in a lungful of warm, salt air, I committed as much of the scene as I could to memory.

  The sea was a gorgeous dark blue, and the setting sun was fast becoming a palette of fiery oranges and reds. The evenings here in the Keys were exquisite. The days weren’t half bad either with white sand, green palms, and bright pink and purple bougainvillea that seemed to bloom everywhere on the little island.

  Sunkissed Key was a far cry from the vast frozen tundra and snow-capped mountains of Siberia. Sure, the heat here was torturous some days, but the extreme heat was quelled by the fact that I was thousands of miles from my stuffy family and my familial obligations. I knew it was impossible, but I’d have been very happy staying on the little island—far away from Siberia—indefinitely.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Serge called out the back door of the house and waved at me. “And I ain’t waitin’.”

  I took another long, mental photograph of the ocean view before standing, brushing the sand off, and heading inside. I knew my days as a member of the P.O.L.A.R. team were numbered and I wanted to etch everything about this amazing adventure I was living into my memory banks. I would undoubtedly need to tap into the pleasant, carefree memories to sustain me through challenging days and long, cold nights ahead. Cold in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Once I returned to Siberia and assumed my title, the legacy of my birthright, and the duties that accompanied it, this life I loved, and the comradery of being just one of the guys, would come to an abrupt end.

  Hannah, Serge’s mate, gave me a wide smile as I stepped into the kitchen. She’d been with us since before Sunkissed Key and in a not-so-indirect way was the reason we’d ended up on this on the island. “I made tacos.”

  My stomach growled and I patted the top of her head, the way I knew made her laugh. She’d quickly grown to be a friend over the months and I was going to miss her warm smiles. Hell, I’d miss all of them. “Sounds delicious.”

  “Hands off my woman.” Serge pointed the tongs he was holding at me and growled.

  Hannah leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Look at my big, strong polar bear, getting all jealous.”

  “Don’t say it like that, woman. You make polar bears sound like cute, cuddly teddy bears.”

  Kerrigan, Dmitry’s mate, grinned at Hannah before goading her own mate. “To be fair, you guys are rather cute and cuddly. In a big, strong, muscular kind of way.”

  Roman and his mate, Megan entered the dining room and sat next to Alexei and Heidi at the large table. Across from them, Maxim, and his shifter mate, Parker were already seated. Although most of the guys and their mates stayed elsewhere now, the team frequently gathered at the P.O.L.A.R. house for dinner, and there was a happy, lively energy in the room. I’d never seen any of the guys so carefree and content before. Not even Alexei.

  Serge looked at how crammed everyone was, even with most of the women sitting on their men’s laps. “We need a bigger table. This is getting ridiculous. When Kon brings home a mate, we won’t all fit.”

  I paused with a taco halfway to my mouth. My back to the group, I afforded myself a wince. There would be no mate for me, not in the traditional sense. None of them knew that yet, though.

  “That would mean Kon would have to be even remotely interested in finding a woman. Never going to happen.” Alexei joked. “He really does just go to the bars to drink and unwind.”

  Heidi scowled at her mate. “And what do the rest of you go to the bars for?”

  I glanced back to find Alexei holding up his hands and looking like a deer in headlights. “I meant before. I was talking about, like, before you. Before when we were still searching for mates.”

  “Speak for yourself, Alexei.” Maxim leaned into Parker and nuzzled her neck. “I was a choir boy before I found my Bunny.”

  Parker rolled her eyes at him. “If you’re going to keep lying, I should move before you get struck by lightning or your nose grows six inches.” She rubbed her expanding baby bump. “I hope your fibbery doesn’t rub off on our baby.”

  “Speaking of…” Roman held Megan closer. They stared into one another’s eyes and Megan’s began to water. “Speaking of baby, it looks like our kids are going to grow up together, Maxim.”

  It took three seconds for the impact of the words to be absorbed and digested by everyone. The women all jumped up squealing and giving Megan hugs while the rest of us clapped Roman on the back and congratulated him. A second P.O.L.A.R. baby on the way. The team was becoming a real family. I stood back and watched, committing yet another warm scene to memory, studying every detail as the group of people I cared for deeply stuffed themselves with tacos, laughed jovially, and looked forward to their future. Together.

  My future weighed heavily on my shoulders as I watched the women toss out baby shower ideas while the guys made bets on whose kid was going to join the P.O.L.A.R. team first. I knew I wouldn’t be around to see whose child joined P.O.L.A.R. My time here was running out. Chances were, I wouldn’t even be around long enough to attend a baby shower.

  With my obligations looming ever nearer, I felt as though I was trying to tread water with a boulder in my stomach and my ankles weighted with bricks. Sometimes, even in a room full of friends, it was as though there were a million degrees of separation between me and the others. As though I was a complete stranger.

  I slipped away to my bedroom without finishing dinner.

  3

  Grace

  Once I reached the small town of Wall, population, 872, I parked outside Wall Drug—the combination drug store, restaurant, gift shop, and tourist attraction—where you could get everything from necessities like clothes and food, to hunting licenses, to cowboy hats, to touristy junk like postcards and jackalope trophies. Me, I came for the free Wi-Fi.

  I earned the majority of my living as a graphic artist and had my virtual shingle hung out on several sites like Fiverr and Upwork. I supplemented the income from my digital art by making bead jewelry, which I sold on Etsy.

  As soon as I fired up my laptop, I immediately logged onto my email. The last email I’d gotten from Gray had been short and vague with no clues about what he’d been up to. When nothing popped up from him, I refreshed the page and waited. Again, nothing. Other than a couple of junk emails, and one from my latest client, a sci-fi author for whom I was designing a series of e-book covers, my inbox was as empty as ever.

  After another three times refreshing, I finally admitted defeat. My heart sank as I refreshed the page once more, just to be absolutely positively sure. An icy chill ran through my veins. Gray would never miss on purpose. Never.

  I slammed my laptop closed and hurried over to the post office. I had a couple jewelry orders to mail out. As I walked, I tried to rationalize the situatio
n and quell the terrible, ominous feeling brewing deep in my belly. Gray was a badass. Tough as nails. He may have gotten caught up in something. He was always pushing limits and ignoring the boundaries of what a normal person should and shouldn’t do. He wasn’t normal though, not by any means. Neither of us were normal, but growing up had been a heck of a lot tougher on Gray than it had been on me. By far.

  When I entered the tiny Wall Post Office, I recognized the postal clerk, an older woman with an inquisitive nature. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. The fact that we both recognized one another was another sign that it was time for me to be moving on.

  “Hi, dear! I was wondering if I’d see you again.”

  I smiled and dropped my outgoing packages on the counter. “Temperature’s dropping out there.”

  She nodded as she placed one of the packages on the postal scale. “It certainly is. There’s a storm front coming in. Tell me, honey, what’s your name?”

  “Jennifer.” The lie slid off my tongue as easily as butter and I didn’t feel one iota of guilt about it.

  “Jennifer. Well, isn’t that just a co-inky-dink. My son, Thomas, is a huge Jennifer Lawrence fan.”