Predator's Serenade (22 page)

He’d have to give his mate the choice. Now that Paul wasn’t sick, things had changed. Perhaps everything had changed for Gioia, as much as she claimed she loved Soren.

His bear let loose a lamentable volley of cries.
Shut up, bear
.

Yes. He would do the right thing and let her decide. It would kill him if she chose Paul. He would likely find himself a nice, gloomy cave somewhere and never come out again, drowning in his sorrow and his filth. However, he had to do the unselfish thing for once.

But first he had to find his beloved and tear that shithead Wes a few new assholes.

* * * *

Gioia had always presumed a few hundred pounds of bear flesh would feel heavy. She’d underestimated just how ponderous the weight could be when that bear was incensed, snapping and right on top of her.

She struggled to snatch a breath as Wes wrestled with her, his larger frame pinning her easily to the forest floor. His great jaws clamped onto her body time and again, ripping at her fur and the skin below. His determination to punish her was clear in his frothing mouth and in the darkness of his crazed eyes. It was all she could do to fend him off.

“Soren. I don’t want you to find me torn to pieces
.”

Perhaps it was better just to give in. Every bone felt cracked in two. Every limb felt crippled. Her skin and muscles ached where Wes had scratched deeply, biting in places. His teeth seemed constantly poised over her heart, and his roars echoed in her ears. If she survived this ordeal, she knew she’d hear his infernal noise in nightmares for years to come.

Wes’ great paw met with her muzzle once again. There was a cracking somewhere deep inside her skull, and pain streaked through her like wildfire on a dry terrain. She must resemble a watermelon that had fallen off a market stall, smashed and scarlet.

“Soren, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare give up, little owl. I’m almost there
.”

His voice in her head made her tired eyes snap open, forcing her to dig out an inner strength from deep within her. A strength she’d had no clue she possessed. With a gut-shaking snarl as her cheer, Gioia shoved as hard as she could and watched in amazement as Wes flew backward into a maple tree, shaking every branch and every leaf. She didn’t give him time to recuperate. She launched herself at him as quickly as her exhausted limbs could move. Opening her jaws, she aimed for his neck and prepared herself to deliver the bite that would kill him.

Wes was too quick, too strong. He raised his paw and slashed her across the neck, screaming his fury. A paw to her dripping neck, Gioia fell, closed her eyes, and anticipated the blow that would end her days.

Somewhere in her stupor, she heard a rumbling howl of rage. As much as it hurt, she cracked open her eyes. From her periphery, she was vaguely aware of three new presences. Three bears. Soren, Paul, and Gunnar.

Soren’s bear face was a mask of furious agony as he glimpsed Wes making his way to her. He charged, and Paul and Gunnar were right behind him.

“Soren
…”

Her body gave into the pain, and blackness began to swarm her vision. Her bear retreated, sad and mangled, and Gioia shifted back into her fragile human form. Without even telling her body to move, it automatically curled up in a ball. The last thing she saw was Soren and Paul dragging Wes away, and horrible streaks of red slashed before her eyes. Wes’ blood sprayed the forest as Soren tore the bear apart.

She heard snarling and the fading of Wes’ heartbeat as he died.

And then, as her eyes closed one last time, nothing.

* * * *

Yanking Wes away from Gioia and sending him to hell had probably taken no more than five seconds. However, those five seconds away from his mate as she lay bloodied and battered were torture to Soren.

As he rushed over to her, shifting at the same time, he stifled a howl at the sight of her broken body in its small ball. He knelt next to her and gently eased her into his arms so he could hold her. She was covered in blood and unresponsive. His lady bear had fought hard.

He’d been too late.

“Baby, please don’t die,” he whispered, as each glance at her wounds brought him a little closer to his own death.

He was cognizant of footsteps near him and looked up to see Gunnar and Paul hovering over them.

“Mom,” Gunnar cried. “No!”

Paul wrapped the boy in his arms, and Gunnar turned his wet face into his dad’s chest. Paul looked at Soren, but Soren could barely see through his tears.

I’m in hell. This is hell
. The anguished screams of his bear, the unearthly sounds of one being tortured, seemed to corroborate his suspicions. “Gioia, please, don’t go.”

As Soren stood, intending to whisk her back to the resort, a group of Ryland’s security guards found them. Ry must have called them while tending to Lia. The men surrounded them. One of them, Bart, put a sympathetic hand on Soren’s arm. “We have our Jeep parked in the clearing over there. Let us take her. We’ll get her to the clinic.” He held out his arms.

“I’ll hold her, and I’m coming,” Soren stated.

As he raced with her to the Jeep, Paul rushed up behind him, holding a tattered piece of one of their shirts. It was ragged, but large enough to give her some modesty among the group of men. He lay it atop Gioia’s unconscious figure as Soren settled her on his lap in the vehicle.

“Thanks,” Soren whispered, too choked up to say anything else.

Paul nodded. “Go. Be with your mate. I’ll take care of Gunnar.” He patted the side of the Jeep and Bart started the engine.

Soren didn’t have time to consider Paul’s words. The Jeep was already off down one of the wooded trails. He passed a gentle hand over Gioia’s pale brow and kissed her lips. “Hang on, little owl. I love you. Stay with me.”

He repeated those hushed words a few dozen times as the vehicle made its bumpy way back to the lodge.

A couple of hours later, Soren continued his vigil in the resort clinic. The clinic was rather bare-bones as far as supplies and accommodations. Shifters didn’t tend to need medical attention, after all, so Ryland had never set up a full-service doctor’s office. However, he’d arranged to have a few basic first aid implements and medicines for any shifters who might happen to bring human relatives with them to the resort. He had Pepto and headache pills and some gauze, but Soren doubted whether he had what they needed to save Gioia. They’d even needed to roll in one of the beds from a guest room so she could lie down in the clinic. Now, resting on her makeshift hospital bed, she looked small and frail and resembled a little bird more than ever. At least she wasn’t covered in blood anymore. Soren, himself, had taken on the task of washing her bruised body, and his tears had joined her blood as it was washed down the drain.

Now, he sat in silence with Paul and Gunnar and prayed Gioia’s new shifter genes were strong enough to get her through this. There wasn’t much they could give her, and they’d bandaged up all her wounds, including the nasty one on her neck. He was tempted to peek under the gauze to see if it was repairing itself but resisted for fear of making it worse.

Ryland wandered into the room, running a shaky hand through his hair, and he looked at his brother. “How is she?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could do something. I hate seeing her like this.” He rubbed his hand over his dry mouth. “How’s Lia?”

“Better. A little groggy, but she’ll be fine. She’s sleeping off what she thinks is a wicked hangover. Of course, even for a shifter woman, she can’t hold her liquor very well,” Ryland said with a small grin.

Soren returned his anxious gaze to Gioia. “Ry, I can’t live without her. I won’t be able to think. I won’t be able to function.”

“I know, little brother, I know.” He took a seat next to him at the bed. “Look, she’s stronger than you think, especially now. You have to trust that her shifter cells are doing what they should and that she’ll open her eyes soon.”

“It’s been hours,” Gunnar interjected from the other side of the bed. “Why won’t she wake up?”

Paul put his arm around his son. “She will. And she’ll be so happy to see you.”

Soren put on a brave face and smiled at Gunnar. “Talk to her, little dude. I’m sure she’d like to hear you.”

“What do I say?”

“Whatever you want. Just let her know you’re here.”

The boy leaned in and began a soft conversation with his mother, detailing the latest on his drum lessons with Soren. Touched, Soren stood and walked to end of the bed, his gaze always on her, but giving Gunnar a little privacy.

As Ryland moved to the medicine cabinet to check on the supplies, Paul joined Soren where he stood. “I’m sorry…for all of this.”

“It’s not your fault,” Soren was quick to reply.

“She is your mate, you know,” Paul murmured, eyeing the gauze on Gioia’s neck. “She was never mine. If she had been, I would have marked her, even under the influence of Wes’ shit.”

“But you love her. She’s your wife.”

“I do love her, but so much has happened. I may be a fool, but I’m not a big enough fool to think Gioia hasn’t moved on. She deserves to move on. I think we got married too young, we didn’t understand our true feelings. I was so grateful to find a woman who accepted what I was and mistook her for my mate. But deep down, my bear knew the truth and wouldn’t let me mark her.”

“Maybe you could still mark her?”

Paul grinned. “Please. I can smell you all over her.” He leaned in and whispered, “And don’t think I didn’t see your teeth marks on her ass. Nice move, by the way.”

Soren couldn’t help but grin back. “Thanks. I thought so.”

“She’s yours, Soren. I could see it the first time I saw you together. It just took me a while to admit it. Admitting my mistakes has never been my strong point.”

“Mine, either,” Soren concurred. “But Paul, you guys are a family. I don’t wanna tear you apart.”

“You won’t. I’ll still be around.” He chortled. “Hey, be grateful. At least you know the divorce will be amicable.”

His heart leaped in gratitude, but Soren still felt the need to make sure he was giving Gioia and Gunnar the best life possible. “Are you sure? But what if she wants you?”

A new, soft voice joined the conversation from the bed. “Don’t I get a choice in the matter?”

Their heads whipped around. Soren stared, his hand over his mouth, as his bear jumped for joy. She was awake.

He raced to her side and kissed her until she bubbled over with weak laughter. “Gioia! Oh, baby.”

She gazed at him and then nuzzled his neck. “Oh my God, you smell so good.”

He laughed, touching her all over her face and her hair and her shoulders, just to make sure she was tangible and not a cruel ghost. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You can’t get rid of me,” she croaked. “Who’ll keep the models away?” He burst into even bigger belly laughs while she reached for Gunnar. “Where’s my boy?”

“I’m here, Mom.” He gave her a massive hug and then gazed at her in adoration. “You saved my life.”

Her eyes welled up and promptly spilled over. “I think you saved mine too.”

Ryland smiled. “Welcome back, sis. I’m going to give you guys some privacy.”

As he vacated the clinic, Gioia let out a weak giggle and reached for Soren again. “Sis. I like that.”

Paul approached her and dropped a chaste kiss on her head. “Glad to have you back, Gioia. We missed you.” He reached for Gunnar’s arm. “Champ, let’s go see if we can rustle up some juice or a snack for your mom.” Gunnar kissed her again and followed his dad out the door.

Soren stared at the vision that was his beautiful mate, smiling when she pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “You,” she said on a breath. “What did you think you were doing back there with Paul? Trying to give me away?”

He grasped her hands in his, smoothing his thumb over her soft skin, and felt the need to cry like a baby again. “I just want you to have…a perfect life.”

“Soren, you’re such a big dummy!”

“What the hell, woman?” he said, chuckling.

She cupped his cheek, sending a thrill down his spine. “How would my life be perfect without you? I love you, you fool. You’re my one, true mate. Or couldn’t you tell when I turned into a humungous polar bear?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “That was fucking awesome to see. My lady bear.”

“Okay, then. Do you need more proof?” She removed her forehead from his and smiled. “You’re inside me, Soren. We’re connected. How could you ever think I’d be better off without you?” Her voice cracked. “I’d die if you left me.”

He let out a long sigh and thanked God she was smarter than he was. “I’ll never leave you. I wouldn’t know how. I love you.”

“Good,” she teased. “Now could you please go back to being the bossy, territorial Soren I love?” She waved her finger at him. “I don’t like this honorable guy. I don’t want to see him again.”

He wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and gently drew her in for a kiss he knew they both felt in their toes. “Don’t worry,” he said in silky tones. “As soon as you’re better, I’ll take what’s mine.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She wiggled over, and Soren climbed into the spacious bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. It felt so good to feel her sweet breath on his neck and her hand resting on his chest. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, and he listened to her soft sighs until she fell asleep.

And then Soren did too, with a greater sense of peace than he’d ever known.

* * * *

Two months later. New York City.

Gioia left Gunnar with Lia and Ryland at the snack bar and headed off to find Soren. He’d given her instructions on how to reach his dressing room in the symphony hall, but it was such a maze. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps she was just nervous. After all, it wasn’t everyday one’s boyfriend premiered a new symphony with the New York Philharmonic. Rather than rely on her own tracking senses, she spoke with one of the ushers, and he directed her toward Soren’s room at the end of a quiet hall, removed from the din of practicing musicians. She knocked on the door.