Unleashed By her Bear by Felicity Heaton

Chapter 9

Callie rose from the green couch when the door to her left opened and Rune stepped back into the room. It felt too small as he glanced at her, the way their eyes collided seeming to suck the air from her lungs. What was it about this bear that made him affect her so badly?

She didn’t think it was fear. She wasn’t scared of him, not when he was like this anyway. Maybe not even when he growled and roared and tried to frighten her. Whenever he acted like that, she reacted in the same way, wanted to bare fangs and stand up to him. She was starting to think she had a death wish she hadn’t known about until she had met Rune.

Why else would she want to provoke a powerful and dangerous bear?

He closed the door behind him, the sharp slam of it enough to shatter whatever hold he had on her, startling her back to the world. On a deep huff, he walked around the back of the couch. She tracked him with her gaze as he crossed the worn floorboards to a twisting set of wooden stairs that led up into what she presumed was a loft bedroom.

“Are we leaving now?” She held her nerve when he stopped with his hand on the newel post and looked back at her, those glacial blue eyes giving nothing away.

“No.” He mounted the first step.

No way was she going to let him leave it at that.

“When are we leaving? How far is it to the car?” She hobbled around the couch, choosing to head towards the cabin door, earning a glare from Rune as she neared it.

He could glare at her all he wanted. She wasn’t his prisoner, not anymore anyway. She had the feeling that Saint was fine with her being here and that he wouldn’t care if she walked out of that door, and she also had the feeling that Rune wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He didn’t strike her as the sort who would go against the orders of the pride’s leader.

“Soon, and we’re not going by car.” He turned away from her and managed to take another two steps before she stopped him in his tracks again.

“What do you mean, we’re not going by car? Saint said you would drive me to the White Wolf pack.” She frowned at him and gripped the cabinet to her right as her ankle throbbed.

“Change of plans,” he grunted and again looked as if he wanted to leave it at that.

“So what is the plan now?” She wanted to growl when he still looked as if he wasn’t going to elaborate. “I have a right to know. Maybe someone else at Black Ridge will be kind enough to tell me. Maybe they can take me to the White Wolf pack rather than you. There was that Maverick guy—”

Rune snarled.

Bone-chillingly, full-throttle snarled at her as if he was about to shift and rip her apart.

Callie locked up tight and blinked as she looked at him, as every instinct she possessed told her she had crossed a line somewhere, only she wasn’t sure where. She held her ground when Rune stepped off the staircase, dropping to the floorboards with enough force to shake them, and her. He strode to her, not stopping until they were chest to chest, forcing her to tip her head back to keep her eyes locked on his.

Her wolf instincts wouldn’t let her break his gaze, not this time.

This male was throwing off aggression, pulsing with anger, and he was a threat to her.

Wolves stared threats down.

“You’re not going anywhere near Maverick.” Rune glared down at her, his icy eyes filled with fury that she could sense in him too, rage that confused the hell out of her.

Was he angry because he viewed her as a potential threat to his friend, or was it because he didn’t want that male near her?

“So you’ll drive me?” She somehow managed to keep the wobble out of her voice, her words coming out strong and a little demanding.

He shook his head, his gaze never straying from hers. “No. I’m not taking you back towards the track. I won’t lead the wolves on your tail back through the valley, risking not only my pride but the cougars too. We’re getting as far from here as possible, in the direction you were already heading. There’s a pass high up the mountain. We can cross into the next valley there.”

Callie stared deep into his eyes, taking advantage of the fact his guard was down. She could see in them that he wasn’t happy about being her escort, and she had noticed how his mood had shifted when she had mentioned Carrigan.

“Do you have a history with Carrigan I need to know about?” She let that question slip from her lips, braced herself because she was sure he would snarl at her again. She closely watched his eyes to chart the subtlest of shifts in his mood, just in case she needed to move out of his reach.

He bared fangs at her.

Pivoted away from her and stomped up the stairs, stripping his T-shirt off as he went, revealing heavily corded muscles that screamed of strength.

It was all the answer she needed.

Rune knew Carrigan. He knew Carrigan and she bet he knew exactly what kind of male the wolf was. There was a history there and that was the only reason he was willing to take her to the White Wolf pack, and the reason he didn’t want her going off to find another guide and escort.

He wanted to meet the wolf who was after her.

She leaned against the cabinet beside her and gazed out of the window above it as she considered how to broach the subject of Carrigan with Rune. There had to be a way to discover his history with the male and whether she was walking into deeper trouble than she was already in.

Her ankle pulsed and ached as she dared to put her weight on it. She huffed and looked down at it. Grimaced when she saw how red and swollen it was. Trekking through the forest to reach Black Ridge had angered it, and now Rune was proposing she hike back to where she had been and walk even further than that.

Rune came back down the stairs, dressed in a fresh pair of black jeans and a matching long-sleeved T-shirt. In his right fist, he clutched another thick zip-up fleece like the one she was wearing. When he stopped and stared at her, she grew deeply aware of the fact his fleece was all she was wearing. She had half a mind to ask him to hurry and get those clothes for her, but a more pressing matter pushed to the fore, muscling it out of the way.

“I need to rest. My ankle is killing me. There’s no way I can walk a long distance on it.” She fully expected him to meet her request with gruff words and a demand that she do as he wanted.

For a heartbeat, he looked as if he wanted to say something, the usual ice in his eyes nowhere to be seen. They were soft, warm almost as they lowered to her right leg and he stared at her injury. That all changed when they shifted to the door behind her. His gaze turned glacial, losing all emotion.

The door opened and Callie swung to face it, keeping hold of the cabinet with her right hand so she didn’t fall.

A tall, well-built male with wild blond hair and a thin layer of scruff coating his jaw, attempting to conceal the cute dimple in his chin, stepped into the room. A red-and-black plaid fleece shirt hugged his chest and arms, accentuating his muscles, and dark blue jeans that were worn in places clung to his powerful legs.

Hello handsome.

If she had been a feline, she might have purred.

Unlike her escort’s, his blue eyes were warm and tropical, promised he was a more reasonable male than Rune could ever be.

He proved just how reasonable he was by holding the stack of folded clothes he clutched in his right hand out to her.

“I borrowed some clothes from my brother’s mate for you. Hopefully they’ll fit. I brought some bandages too. I’ve been learning about field dressing wounds and thought maybe I could help with your ankle.” When he lifted his left hand, revealing a white plate stacked with bacon sandwiches, her mouth watered and she was torn between grabbing the clothes and grabbing breakfast. He shot her a sweet smile. “And these are from me. Saint mentioned you needed something to eat.”

That was kind of him.

She had never seen such fluffy white bread or such perfectly cooked bacon, and the smell of them was incredible as a drop of butter eased down the crust to the plate. She almost moaned. Foodgasm. It was hard to resist the temptation to make grabby hands.

She tossed a pointed look at Rune, silently telling him he should be taking notes. Froze as a thought hit her.

“Is Rune your brother?” She looked at the blond, trying to spot a resemblance between them.

“Hell, no.” The male leaned back slightly. He raised his hands when Rune huffed at his reaction. “Just… can’t picture you as a brother. Suppose you and Maverick are like brothers.”

She glanced back at Rune, caught the sour look on his face and the ice in his eyes that said this male was digging himself into an early grave and would be better off holding his tongue.

Rune stepped past her, grabbed the clothes and shoved them at her.

He swiped two of the bacon sandwiches from her bounty and growled, “Change. We leave as soon as you’re ready.”

She took hold of the clothes when he released them and tucked them to her chest as she scowled at him. “What about resting? I need to rest this ankle.”

And for a moment, he had looked as if he was willing to give her the time she had asked for.

And then Mr Handsome had walked in and ruined everything, aggravating Rune just when he had been close to showing that soft side she knew existed beneath all the layers of razor-wire and reinforced steel.

“Change,” Rune grunted, a sharp and cold edge to his eyes that said he wouldn’t ask her again.

She got the hint, didn’t need him seizing hold of her and marching her upstairs or anything like that.

“I’m guessing your mate didn’t pick you because of your sparkling personality,” she groused as she headed for the stairs.

Mr Handsome laughed. “Rune isn’t mated.”

Callie froze and looked back at him, her gaze clashing with Rune’s wide eyes. They narrowed in an instant as he looked at the other male, as he hit him with a glare that made it painfully clear that he wanted to strike the male for putting that out there.

“I thought… You said there were unmated males here and I thought…” Her eyebrows rose as she recalled what he had said and she felt like an idiot. That old adage about assumptions hit her hard as she stared at him, unable to tear her gaze away. She had thought he was mated and now she felt like an ass. He had never said he was mated. He had only told her that there were unmated males at the pride. Apparently, that included himself. “You’re not mated?”

She needed to hear him say it for some reason.

He shook his head and hit her with his patented glare. “Get dressed.”

Callie obeyed that order, hobbled up the twisting staircase, but only because she needed a moment to think without him sucking the air out of the room, without being deeply aware of his presence. Rune wasn’t mated. What on earth had made her assume that he was? Why had some deep, powerful part of her needed to hear him confirm he was unattached?

And why had that confirmation made her want to growl and close the distance between them?

She reached the bedroom, wanted to sink onto the end of the bed but hit a snag. The bed was nothing more than a double mattress on the floor, and not one that was thick enough for her to sit on without her having to struggle to get back onto her feet. Her eyebrows knitted as she ran over what she had seen of his cabin. It hit her that it looked more like a temporary shelter than any sort of permanent residence, as if he was ready to move on at a moment’s notice and wouldn’t have to leave anything of value behind when he did.

The more she came to know Rune, the less she understood him, and the stronger the feeling that there was darkness in his past grew.

Had that darkness involved Carrigan?

She gripped the railing of the stairs with one hand and set the clothes down on the bed with the other. She rifled through them and picked out a pair of black leggings that were thick, would be warm enough for the summer climate in the mountains but also a struggle to get off if she had to shift. They were better than nothing though. She grimaced and fought to get them on without falling and making a fool of herself.

“You going to be all right with doing this?” Mr Handsome said, concern ringing in his voice.

Rune grunted, “I’ll be fine. I need to go speak with Maverick. Keep an eye on her, Lowe. Don’t let her out of the cabin.”

The door opened and closed again.

Callie was tempted to peek and see if she was alone with Lowe now, but focused on ditching her fleece and pulling on a worn, soft dark grey T-shirt that had a logo she didn’t recognise emblazoned on the front of it. She covered that with a black fleece-lined hoodie and zipped it up. The fresh clothes made her feel a little better, but her thoughts weighed her down as the focus of them drifted beyond the sphere of her senses.

What was he going to talk to Maverick about? Her heart said it was about the black bear sow, Misty. The depth of the worry, and the love, Rune felt for that bear had surprised her, but it had also helped her see through a chink in his armour to the male he hid beyond it. Rune might growl and snarl, and roar, but underneath that tough exterior beat a warm heart.

At least it was warm towards those he cared about.

Like the bear.

Callie found herself praying the bears he had raised as his own cubs lived to reach thirty, just as he clearly hoped, because she had the feeling Rune had already lost too much and had been through enough pain in his life.

Gods, if he knew the course of her thoughts, he would probably bite her head off and turn moody and distant with her.

She hobbled back down the stairs and felt Mr Handsome’s—Lowe’s—gaze on her the moment she moved into view. He hurried over to her as she reached the bend in the staircase.

“Here, let me help.” He held his hand out to her.

Callie placed hers into it. “Thanks. I didn’t think I would find any gentlemen here.”

Lowe chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive Rune. He’s a little rough around the edges, but he has his reasons.”

Reasons she wanted to know.

“Here. Sit down and I’ll bind that ankle.” He jerked his head towards the couch.

Callie limped to it and sank onto the worn green cushions next to the plate of sandwiches and a stack of bandages. Lowe eased to his knees before her and carefully pushed the tight material of her leggings up her right leg.

“This is nasty.” Lowe glanced up at her, looking like some kind of fairy tale prince about to slip a shoe on her foot and claim her as his princess.

Only she didn’t want this shiny, perfect prince.

“A hunter’s snare did it. I probably have tetanus.” She forced a smile, trying to purge all thoughts about Rune and how different things would be if it were him kneeling before her, taking care of her.

She would have liked that a lot more.

She shook that thought away as she grabbed a bacon sandwich and stuffed half of it into her mouth. She frowned as she chewed, silently chastising herself. No, she wouldn’t like Rune to swap places with Lowe, because he would be caustic and a terrible doctor, would probably hurt her or somehow use her injured leg as a means of threatening her into doing what he wanted.

“You know you can’t get tetanus, right?” Lowe frowned at her, a wonderfully puzzled and concerned look in his sapphire eyes.

“It was a joke.” She sighed and leaned back on the couch. “I’m too tired to make things sound like a joke. I haven’t slept in a few days.”

She popped the rest of the sandwich half into her mouth and reached for another, holding back a moan as her stomach growled for more.

“A few days?” Lowe opened a pack of cream bandages and applied the start of the roll to her ankle.

His hands were warm, his touch gentle, and his bedside manner was excellent. He would have made a good doctor. Females everywhere would have been hurting themselves just to get close to him.

“Guess you didn’t get the memo that I’m on the run.” This time, her smile was genuine.

The corners of his lips twitched but he kept his eyes on his work as he wrapped her ankle, the bandage tight enough that it hurt a little, but in a good way—as if it was holding her together.

“My mate was on the run when I met her.” He glanced at her. “A little different to you though. Unless you have drug dealers on your tail?”

She shook her head and swallowed another bite of sandwich. She wanted to know more about his mate because she sounded interesting, but ended up staring at his nape as he bent forwards, trying to get a look at the back of her ankle.

She stared so hard at the point where the collar of his red-and-black fleece shirt met his spine that he stiffened and looked up at her.

“Sorry.” She managed another smile. “Just trying to see if you had a tattoo too.”

“Tattoo?” He sat back, his blond eyebrows furrowing as he pursed his lips.

“Like Rune has. I thought maybe you’d have a tattoo on the back of your neck too.” She mentally cursed when she realised that she was close to rambling, was in danger of showing this male how nervous she was.

It wasn’t the fact she was asking about Rune’s ink that had her suddenly on edge though—it was the shift in Lowe’s mood, one that didn’t suit such a laidback male.

His blue eyes darkened rapidly, his lips flattening and the corners of them turning downwards as he frowned at her.

“You didn’t bring up that number with Rune, did you?” His fangs flashed between his lips as he spoke, his gaze darkening further as she leaned back, away from him.

He must have seen the answer in her eyes, because he growled at her, rose sharply to his feet and stared down at her as brown fur swept over his hands and the corded muscles of his forearms to disappear under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt.

She wanted to stand and distance herself, wanted to put the couch between them even when she knew it wouldn’t stop him from getting to her if he wanted to attack her. She couldn’t bring herself to move though, was caged within her body as she thought about that number she had seen, and how both Rune and Lowe had reacted fiercely to just the mention of it.

“What does it mean?” she whispered, cleared her throat and put some force behind her words as she gathered her courage. “Does it have something to do with Archangel?”

Before he could answer her, the door burst open and a male who looked just like Lowe, but with slightly darker and wilder hair, exploded into the room on a growl. Maybe she had been wrong about Lowe. This male was darkness, exuded danger in a way that made his twin look as easy-going as she had thought he was. Lowe’s fury was nothing compared to the rage that burned in this one.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His dark blue eyes leaped from her to Lowe, and then back to her. He nudged his twin aside and loomed over her, flashing fangs at her and throwing off aggression that had fire flaring in her veins. “You got a problem with my brother then you’ve got a problem with me, Wolf.”

“Knox.” Lowe reached for the male’s shoulder.

Knox growled at him before he could touch him, turned on her again and lunged for her.

Callie slapped his hand away before he could grab her, bared her own fangs and snarled, “Maybe that number means you’re all some sort of genetic experiment. Did they want to create a race of asshole bears? If they did, they certainly succeeded!”

She gripped the arm of the couch and hopped up onto the seat, sprang over the back of it to land on the floorboards there, and regretted the hell out of it when lightning arced up her right leg.

“Number?” Knox slid a look at his brother.

“She asked Rune about his ink.” Lowe didn’t take his eyes off her, and the fact the darkness was leaving them wasn’t a comfort to her.

Knox still looked ready to kill her.

“You know what? I’ll find my own way to White Wolf Lodge. Honestly, risking being caught by Carrigan is better than dealing with any of you.” She hobbled towards the door, her heart thundering, blood pumping so hard that her head hurt.

“Carrigan?” Lowe stepped into her path and she wanted to snarl and lash out at him to get him to move, but the warm look in his eyes, one of deep concern, had her holding herself back. “Carrigan is after you?”

She nodded and that bad feeling she’d had when she had mentioned that male to Saint and Rune returned, setting her on edge.

Lowe exchanged a look with Knox.

A grave one.

“If shit goes down, do not get in Rune’s way or you’ll be collateral damage.” Knox’s words shook her, had her wondering all over again about what had happened between Rune and Carrigan.

Lowe only made her bad feeling worse. “When the urge to fight comes over Rune, he loses himself to it. He can’t help it. He won’t mean to hurt you, but there’s a high chance he will. He’ll go right through you if it means getting to that bastard.”

Before she could press the brothers for more than just that ominous information, Rune appeared in the open doorway of the cabin, his pale blue eyes colder than she had ever seen them as he glared at the twins.

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to demand to know what was happening, looked ready to lash out at Knox and Lowe, and maybe even her, but then he tossed a pair of boots at her.

Growled.

“Finish getting dressed. We’re leaving.”

Callie stared at him, a feeling rushing in her blood, chilling her.

Stopping the wolves on her tail from running into members of his pride or those from Cougar Creek wasn’t the reason Rune was insisting they went to the White Wolf pack on foot.

The real reason was far less noble and far more dangerous.

Rune was using her as bait for Carrigan.

He had a score to settle with that male.

And Callie was going to find out what it was.