Dare to Bear (Book 1 Trail Guardians Series) (2 page)

As he arrived with her outside Tyce’s closed office door, Mason managed to rein in his ferocious appetite. He assumed any minute now her companion would enter the lodge—probably some weird, awkward guy who didn’t appreciate or deserve her, but who she settled for—and he’d never see Stephanie again.

The thought bothered him more than it should.

He pounded the side of his fist against Tyce’s door. While waiting for Tyce, he glanced at the plaque on the wall bearing the Rod of Asclepius, the iconic symbol associated with healing and medicine of a snake twined around a staff.

Their gifted doctor, however, wasn’t answering. Mason knocked harder.

“I’m not a medical emergency,” Stephanie said, her lyrical voice music to his ears. “If the doctor is busy, I’ll just go take a shower.”

“Not until Tyce judges your condition for himself.”

As a master Trail Guardian, Mason knew all too well that any wound, no matter how small, could become infected and render a hiker weak or ill within days. What might start as a minor scratch could spiral into an extended hospital stay, and without proper antibiotics worse fates awaited. He’d happened on countless hikers over the years who’d dismissed an injury only to be carried out of the woods and fast-tracked to the nearest emergency room by him or one of his fellow bear Guardians.

Tired of waiting, Mason threw open the door and strutted inside. At a long counter spanning the back of the medical office, he spotted Tyce hunched over a microscope. Sandy, their outpost’s office manager and only female Trail Guardian in this territory, leaped away from her close proximity to Tyce. She blushed.

Mason shook his head, bemused by the pair. Why Sandy bothered hiding or denying her feelings for Tyce, Mason would never understand. He supposed it didn’t help that Tyce always had his nose buried in his work. The guy wouldn’t notice a tick infestation in his fur unless someone pointed it out, let alone a sweet beauty like Sandy, in her prime and eager to mate.

“Did you not hear my fist on your door?” Mason asked loudly, dragging Tyce’s attention away from his vocation. That microscope sure as hell wouldn’t keep the good doctor warm at night. Mason sent Sandy a compassionate look. She glanced away.

Tyce stood and removed his glasses, setting them on the countertop. His eyes seemed glazed and it took him a moment to readjust to the real world around him. “My apologies.” Tyce gestured for him and Stephanie to come further into the room. “How can I help?”

“The lady needs treatment,” Mason explained, pointing at her swollen knee trickling blood beneath a soggy band-aide.

“Sure.” Tyce patted the surface of a physician’s bed lined with sterile white paper. “Let’s have a look.”

When Tyce sat on a stool in front of Stephanie and parted her thighs, his fingers methodically touched and investigated her leg.

A shock of possessiveness seized Mason. Totally out of character. He took a step back, shook his head.

What was it about this woman? Why did she impact him like a meteor strike? Tyce was a doctor, a professional, for God’s sake. He was doing his job, not fondling Stephanie. Still, Mason found no peace from the relentless need to protect her from every other male. As if she was
his
, and belonged to him alone.

Rolling on his short stool to a cupboard nearby, Tyce withdrew sanitary items, a proper bandage and tweezers. “You have a splinter wedged deep. I’ll remove it and send you off with antibiotics.”

“See,” Stephanie said, half-glaring at Mason. “I told you it was nothing.”

Tyce lifted his head. “Not true. Depending on the spores or fecal matter on the material that cut you, a splinter like this could cause you all sorts of trouble if you didn’t care for it properly.”

“See.” Mason grinned. “I told you it was something.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. Mason laughed.

Glancing between them, Tyce looked puzzled. “How have I amused you?”

“Don’t worry about it, doc.” Mason sighed. “Just do your thing.”

How a pretty girl like Sandy could fall for a nerdy, socially awkward brainiac like Tyce, he’d never understand.
None of my business
, he thought.
Reason and logic have nothing to do with love.

Or so he’d been told. He had no personal experience with those complicated issues. He’d had it easier than many of his Guardian brethren. Most of his close friends had mated already, and while they seemed happy and contented with their lives, Mason didn’t see the need to rush that eventually.

He figured when he’d met his mate, he’d probably know it. Like a flash of lightning across the sky.
Or a meteor impact
…

The blood drained from his face. He had a hard time swallowing all the sudden. Then he had a hard time breathing.

Dazed, he stared at the woman clenching her jaw, as the doc dug the splinter out of her knee.
Impossible
. A territorial rush tunneled through his veins, proving him wrong.
But…how?
Bear shifters only mated with their own kind, not random outsiders.
Right?

Confused and unnerved by the startling possibility Stephanie was his mate, he excused himself on an errand to find towels for Steph’s shower. He moved as if in a stupor.

This bizarre twist of fate couldn’t be real. Maybe he hadn’t read the signs correctly. He must’ve mistaken the power of lust and attraction for something more, something deeper.

Moving on auto-pilot, he entered the locker rooms and went to the supply closet. He used a key from the ring on his belt to unlock the door and gather bathing supplies for Steph.

At the thought of her sexy body naked, dripping with warm water, he groaned. His hands shook a little, and the raging hard-on in his canvas shorts refused to stand down. If just the thought of her naked did this to him, what would happen if he had sex with her?

A strange sound in his chest rumbled through him like the thunder of a gathering storm. But wait. Wasn’t there some kind of ritual, like a rite of passage, or whatever?

Hadn’t his buddies who’d mated talked about The Knowing? The Claiming?

Did he need the blessing of a woodland priestess? Or some other entity to confirm and bless a mated union? The thoughts swirling in his brain made his head want to explode.

Then again, he could be overreacting. Starved for sexual attention, since he hadn’t lain with a woman in… Well, longer than he cared to admit, as this was the peak of their busy season and the store commanded nearly all of his attention.

Only one way to know for sure.

Mason would join her on the hiking trail. He’d keep her safe by his side, until he uncovered the truth behind these unexpected sensations.

It didn’t matter how her companion felt about the situation. Nobody told a bear, “No.”

This was about fate, destiny. A path conceived by the Ancestors long before he’d been taken his first breath in this world. If his future lay in her hands, he wasn’t about let her walk out the door without him.

Come hell or high wind or wildfire, he would know soon enough, beyond a doubt, if Stephanie was his eternal mate.

2

The first order of business, Mason decided, was to learn about her travel companion. He was sure she had one, since women rarely traveled alone. It wasn’t safe. She didn’t wear a wedding ring, so he didn’t have that obstacle to overcome.

How awkward would that be?
Hey, dude, I know I’m a complete stranger, but you’re married to the woman who’s supposed to be my wife
.

Damn, that would suck.

He could handle some chump. Shredding someone’s marriage was another thing, and far more complicated than he cared to imagine. If her travel companion was a female, that made his life much easier. He’d turn on the charm until Steph was smitten and received her friend’s blessing to uproot herself and create a totally new life with him here on the trail.

Sure, no problem
.

He scoffed, mystified by the abruptness and absurdity of their situation.

Mating with an ordinary human was tricky. If she, in fact, was his mate. Eventually he’d need to explain—or demonstrate—why they were bound to each other. He didn’t look forward to revealing the truth about his shifter capabilities.

But the part about seduction? Hell, yeah. Say when. He was all in. Picturing Steph under him turned his blood to liquid fire in his veins.

Whatever it was about her, he wanted her. Completely.

Ownership. Domination. Nothing less would satisfy him.

Trapped in thoughts of her, he exited the locker room and ran smack into a guy half his size. Instant resentment poured through him. Was this scrawny dude her competition?

Pulling back, Mason saw who it was. The familiar peach fuzz on his chin and his shaggy dark blonde hair gave him away. “Quinn. What are you doing?”

“I’m great. Thanks for asking, and almost mowing me down.”

Mason didn’t have patience for the junior Guardian’s attitude. “I need you to look out for someone. If a guy—or girl—comes in looking for Stephanie, let me know.”

Quinn scratched his neck. “Who’s Stephanie?”

“I’m about to find out,” Mason said under his breath, licking his lips.

“I need to shower before my shift starts,” Quinn said.

Mason grunted. “Make it quick. I need you on the clock, asap.”

“Yes, sir,” Quinn muttered.

No doubt, training as a junior Guardian could be trying at the best of times. Whatever orders the master Guardians dished out, the juniors had to grin and take it. Mason recalled the frustration personally. Especially when the elder Guardians turned grumpy and infernally obstinate in the old age. However, Mason was in his prime and in command of this post. He didn’t care if the juniors liked his orders, they just needed to follow them.

When he returned to Tyce’s clinic, Mason found Steph neatly patched up and ready to go. She reached into the zippered pocket of her shorts and pulled out her insurance card and debit card. “Thank you, Dr. Tyce. How much do I owe you?”

Mason cut Tyce off before the man answered. “On the house.”

Stephanie blinked at him. “I have the money to pay him.”

A slight grin tugged at Mason’s lips. He appreciated an independent woman. But he was bred and raised to one day become the alpha provider for his family. Like hell he’d let his future mate, if that’s what she was, pay for anything he could provide.

Few beyond the elite master Guardians knew the extent of the clans’ wealth. Sales from their survivalist stores worldwide provided a large, steady income. In the tens of millions. He could afford to pick up the tab.

“I insist,” he said. “I’m the one who forced you to get your leg checked. Let me make up for my imposition.”

A cute frown formed between her eyebrows. Steph eventually relented. “Okay.” Then she looked longingly at the towels and bath soaps in his arms. “Can I take my shower now?”

The sweet, pleading look in her eyes softened him in a way no woman could. Strike that. One woman could. Damn, she got to him. “The shower is all yours.” He smiled. “Ladies locker room and showers are out this door, down the hall, on the left.”

“Thank you.” She hopped off the table and collected the towels. As though driven by impulse, she bounced onto tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

The place where her lips met left a tingle on his skin. He watched the sway of her generous hips as she walked out, his gaze lingering on the door long after she left.

“You seem quite taken with her,” Tyce observed.

Mason swung around. “There’s…something about her.” He shook her head. “Anyway, write up her bill, and I’ll pay it with cash from the drawer. If you need me, I’ll be out front changing the register so Quinn can start his shift.”

“That can wait.” Sandy’s normally gentle voice held a sharp edge to it. “We need to talk.”

“About?” Mason asked.

Tyce stepped forward. “It’s about the rabies strain infecting wolves along the Appalachian Trail.”

“Isn’t that something for the APL or National Wildlife Federation or the State of North Carolina to investigate?”

“We’re not talking normal wolves,” Sandy said with a shimmer of worry in her eyes. “And it’s not a normal virus. This strain has leaped to the lycan.”

Mason narrowed his eyes then outright dismissed her conclusion. “Shifters are immune to all the common sicknesses that infect wildlife species.”

Sandy shrugged. “So we thought.”

“Come.” Tyce beckoned him to the microscope. “Take a look at these two live cultures. Tell me what you see.”

“Microbiology isn’t exactly my strong suit,” Mason retorted.

“You don’t need an advanced degree to see this,” Sandy said dryly.

“Fine.” Mason exhaled and bent over the microscope. “Okay, there are little squiggly things breaking into the shell of the round eggs.”

“Those eggs are cells,” Tyce explained. “The squiggles, as you call them, are a typical strain of rabies. The viral DNA is slowly, gradually invading normal cells and recreating the host’s DNA structure to replicate itself.”