Chapter Seventeen
“Okay, thanks June. And no matter what happens, you guys will still be in his life. You’ve been amazing grandparents.”
“Well, I sure appreciate that,” June said in a tear-soaked voice. “I just wish Robbie wasn’t so bone-headed. Call us tomorrow and let us know if we need to meet you halfway.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
“You too, honey. Bye.”
Beck hung up the phone and set it in her lap, face up in case Robbie called to change his mind. Although, according to his mom, June, relenting his rights had been on his mind for a while now.
“I should’ve seen this coming,” Beck said softly to Mason from the passenger’s seat. “Ryder’s already asleep so I couldn’t talk to him. God, I hope Robbie is in his right mind when he talks to him about this. Or should he even say anything? I mean, Ryder might not realize Robbie isn’t in his life anymore because he really wasn’t present to begin with. I don’t know what the right thing is to do. I don’t know anything,” she whispered helplessly.
Mason intertwined his fingers with hers and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Will it? Genetic testing! I still can’t even wrap my head around that. Robbie’s ultimatum was to physically and emotionally scar Ryder or reject his child altogether? I already felt alone raising Ryder, but now I’m really, really alone.”
“No you aren’t,” Mason said fiercely. He looked at her with the fire of promise in his eyes. “We’ll figure this all out.”
But Mason didn’t see what she did. His headlights illuminated a woman in the middle of the road. She was cast in an eerie blue glow, her long dark hair flowing unnaturally, and her eyes were black as night.
“Mason!” Beck screamed. “Look out!”
Mason jerked his attention to the road and slammed on the brakes, skidding sideways right into the woman. But right before they careened into her, she disappeared.
A terrifying whisper filled the cab. “They’re coming.”
“Hold on!” Mason demanded, turning into the skid with one hand pressing Beck so hard against the seat she couldn’t breathe.
Fishtail after fishtail spun the truck this way and that, and the smell of burnt rubber choked Beck as they slammed to a final stop.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Beck chanted, horrified as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. She turned and looked behind them, expecting to see a body on the road, even though there had been no impact. “What was that?”
“That,” Mason gritted out, his furious gaze on the rearview mirror, “was Esmerelda.”
****
Mason ran his finger under the covers, along her ribs, and down the curve of her stomach to the swell of her hips. “Can’t sleep?”
“Sorry,” Beck whispered in the dark. “I was trying to be still so you could get some rest.”
He brushed her hair out of the way and pressed his lips on the back of her neck. “I can’t sleep either.”
Easing back against his strength, she whispered, “Why does it feel like everything is falling down around us? Our rights are being stripped, Robbie…Esmerelda. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think I understand about the claiming mark now.”
Mason sighed and hooked his arm around her stomach, pulled her tight to him. “Beck, it’s not that I don’t think about it. I mean, I feel obsessed. My boar wants you, I want you, and damn, I will love seeing my mark on you someday.”
“But Esmerelda. She’s getting stronger in your life, just like I am, and you want to know why before you give me a mark. You don’t want it to be me and Esmerelda fighting for your attention when you claim me. You want it to be about me and no one else.”
“Close. I want it to be about you and Ryder. He’s my only shot at a kid, Beck. I feel like you’ve opened this door to a life I thought I would never have.”
“Do you feel pressure?”
“Yeah. Hell, yeah. Before Esmerelda, I would’ve jumped right on you, marked you, claimed you. I was young, but Beck, I was so ready for a family. A mate, kids, all of it. I was right on the cusp of taking the alpha position over my people. I had a great job. Providing for you and Ryder wouldn’t have been a concern at all, and back then, that was the most important thing to me. Security.”
“I’m not asking you to provide for us, Mason.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I have the means to provide for you now, too, but when I met you, that wasn’t the first thing I thought about. I’m different now. The first thing I thought was, ‘oh shit, how can I make her happy while I’m dragging this baggage?’ And the answer is I don’t know if I can. I couldn’t make Esmerelda happy, and now look what’s happened. She wasted her last years on me, and now she’s wasting her afterlife on me, too.”
Beck turned in his arms. Her night vision was impeccable so she could see every worried line of his face, every indentation of muscle across his shoulders, every ounce of sorrow in his dark gaze. “I don’t think she would see it as a waste.”
Mason traced the outside of her ear with a light touch. “Jason said he thinks she’s here to tell me to pay attention to you and Ryder. He thinks she’s here to tell me to move on from her death.”
Beck searched his eyes, but he wasn’t meeting her gaze anymore. “And what do you think?”
“I was fine with that explanation until I saw her standing in that road tonight. I’m letting you in. I’m falling in love with you. I’m nervous, but excited to meet Ryder.” Mason lifted his soft brown eyes to hers, held her steady there. “So why is Esmerelda getting stronger?”
Beck shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know.” That had scared her badly. She’d already been freaked out by Esmerelda talking to her in the restaurant, but seeing her and feeling her cold, dead breath against her neck in Mason’s truck had stolen the safety Beck felt here. Sure, she’d known ghosts existed, but physically seeing a ghost, feeling Esmerelda’s presence, and watching the effect it had on her mate was completely different. Her owl hadn’t settled down since they’d almost wrecked. Scratch, scratch, scratch, her inner bird of prey clawed at her skin, asking to be released just so she could fly off some of this emotion.
“Will you Change with me?” she whispered, too chicken to look him directly in the face and watch the rejection there.
Mason hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face, pressed his lips to hers. His mouth moved against hers like water, soft and gentle. And when his tongue brushed hers, she opened for him, allowing him to taste her, allowing him in. Although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, Mason had all of her. Everything she had to offer, he could have if he would just keep her. Because this feeling—this chest fluttering, stomach-dipping, happy sensation—hadn’t existed before he’d breathed life into her.
He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to make her happy because he felt broken. But he didn’t see it. She was broken, too, shattered into the perfect shape to match his tattered edges. He could keep his claiming mark and take it slow if that’s what he needed. She understood now, and she would wait for him. She would find her patience if it meant she could live more moments like this when a big, dominant, scarred-up beast of a man held her heart so gently in his hand and promised wordlessly to protect it for always.
She loved him. Loved him. Just being capable of this intense emotion after Robbie had stripped her soul bare was a testament to how inherently good Mason was. She wouldn’t have given herself to anyone less. Not after all she’d been through.
So she would wait. And she would love him. And she wouldn’t guilt him for being careful because he’d nurtured deep love once, and even if he didn’t realize it yet, Mason knew how to build it again. With her.
He was worth waiting for. Worth the effort. Worthy of her “all in.”
With a content sigh, she slipped out of his kiss with a soft smack and rolled over, gave him her back. Her revved-up instincts told her Mason really was a beast boar. Robbie
used to take her from behind and hurt her, and she’d sworn never to let a man do that to her again. But then Mason had come along, and he wasn’t just some human male trying to dominate her. Trying to stifle her shifter by putting her beneath him. Sex with Mason was different. It was more animalistic, and this was the test. If he didn’t trigger her to panic, then she really was getting better.
Mason’s reaction was instant. His arms slid around her, pulled her back tight against his raging hard erection. He rolled his hips gracefully with her seductive movement. And when she reached behind her and gripped the back of his neck, she could feel his teeth on her shoulder, as if he couldn’t help but tempt himself to bite.
She thought he would take her hard and fast since that’s what rutting men did, but instead, Mason slid his hand down her quivering belly and cupped her sex. And when he brushed his finger down her wet folds, she gasped and spread her knees wider for him. For a while, he toyed gently with her clit, bringing her closer to climax with every touch, and when she was bowing against him, pleading, he finally slipped his finger inside of her.
Against her back, Mason rolled his long, thick erection. She wanted that. Wanted him in her, wanted them connected, because when they were in each other’s arms, the rest of the world slipped away. Beck reached between her legs and drew his dick between her thighs, against his hand as he fingered her.
Mason grunted and pushed a second finger inside of her, and she was gone. Her orgasm pulsed through her, and he worked each aftershock out of her until she was sensitive and twitching under his touch. And then he kissed her neck as she recovered. Sensual, commanding lips, a hint of tongue, and nipping teeth had her begging silently again. She arched back, tempting him as his dick slid through her wet heat.
“Are you sure,” he whispered against her neck.
Oh, he’d listened when she’d told him Robbie used to take her from behind just so he didn’t have to look at her face, but this was different. Mason was different. Sex like this with her mate was exciting and erotic. She loved that he made her come before he took pleasure for himself. Good man. Good boar. Good mate.
“With you, I’m sure.”
Mason rolled her up on her hands and knees and threw the covers off them. “On your elbows,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Arch that back for me so I don’t hurt you.”
A delicious shiver trembled up her spine and landed in her shoulders at the commanding confidence in his voice. She bowed like a stretching feline and spread her knees farther apart on the soft mattress. “Like this?” she teased, tossing him a look over her shoulder.
Mason’s eyes sparked like blue fire, his gaze locked between her legs.
He ran his big, calloused hands down the sensitive skin of her outer thighs, lifted up on his knees, and pressed his taut stomach against her back, like he was testing how much weight she could bear. Rocking them forward gently, he brushed her sex with the head of his cock, and now he was the one teasing.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered, hand over hers, guiding it between her legs.
Touch herself? Eeek! She hadn’t ever done that in front of anyone before, and now—oooooh. Mason pressed her hand over her clit, and she could feel his shaft as he dipped into her by inches. He eased back and then pushed into her deeper, filling her with delicious pressure, stretching her with his girth.
His arm was locked on the bed beside her cheek, and she turned and bit his bicep as he rubbed her hand between her legs again. A low rumble rattled his chest, vibrating against her back.
“Deeper,” she pleaded.
Mason pushed into her until his hips met her ass. Rolling her eyes closed, Beck sighed out a helpless sound as she moved with him. His abs flexed against her as he pulled out and pushed in, and when she pressed his hand against her sex to feel where he was entering her, to feel how wet he’d made her, Mason jerked his hips, bucking into her faster.
She was already toeing the edge, about to fall over the side when Mason slammed into her with one more deep thrust, and… “I’m coming,” she gasped out. “Mason, I’m coming.”
Mason bucked into her again and froze, gritting out a feral sound as his dick pulsed heat inside of her. Over and over he throbbed, matching her release, until warmth trickled down her thighs. God, she loved this. Loved him wild. Loved how he made her feel like the sexiest woman on the planet. Her sexy beast boar, filling her with his seed until she couldn’t hold anymore.
Minutes stretched on as they slowed their pace and savored every aftershock, and at last, with a slick sound, Mason pulled out of her.
He ran kisses down her back, right along her spine, coveting her, showing her sex wasn’t his end game. Showing her it was just the beginning of his affection. “Yes,” he whispered against her fevered skin.
“Yes, what?” she asked in the dark.
“Yes, I would love to Change with you.”
The grin that stretched her face felt so good. Wordlessly, Mason stood beside the bed and held out his hand, palm up.
“I should clean up,” she murmured, slipping her hand into his.
Mason lifted his chin proudly, his blue eyes glowing from the inside out. “No. My animal likes you smelling like me.”
With a steadying breath, she padded out of the bedroom, through the living room, and into the night, holding the hand of the man she loved. Mason didn’t mind touching her anymore. He didn’t balk or panic. In fact, the sound rattling his chest, just above her senses, sounded content, and his skin heated where it touched hers. She couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed by the warm wetness that trickled down the insides of her thighs to her knees. If this was the only mark Mason would allow himself on her, then she was fine with smelling like him.
“You first,” he said low. “I like to watch you take off.”
Beck’s heart fluttered like wings in her chest. Whether that was from the giddy feeling he gave her or from her owl proudly testing her wings inside, she didn’t know. Lifting up on the balls of her bare feet, she kissed him, brushed her tongue against his once, then stood back, proud of her animal for the first time in her life. Why? Because Mason loved her, not despite her animal, but partly because of her animal. There was beauty in that—in being accepted completely, owl and all.
With a quick breath to brace for the instant pain that always came with her Change, Beck hunched inward and let her animal explode from her skin. She could see everything in this form. Every facet of Mason’s beautiful, awed face. Every rippling muscle on his body as he strode forward on his powerful legs and lifted his face to watch her circle above him. The trailer park below her was silent in the hours before dawn, but his slow smile was like music. It filled her head with joy. Filled her with the idea that despite the scar he withheld, she was really his. The proud look on his face said as much.
She let off a long screech, inviting his boar to come out and play. She’d never shifted with anyone, and how fitting that Mason was her first. The white of Mason’s breathtaking smile flashed in the instant before his beastly boar ripped from his skin. His coarse, black hair spiked up in a line down his back, and his tusks shone white against the dark. His eyes were the blue inhuman color she’d come to adore instead of fear. She waited to feel afraid as flight shifters often did around shifters higher on the food chain, but all she felt was an overwhelming elation that he was hers. Her safety, her mate, her love. Whooo whooo was the lucky owl? Beck was.
She circled around as Mason trotted for the tree line on those sure, glossy black hooves of his. Dive-bombing closer, she cried out a happy noise as Mason lifted his head, cutting proudly through the air with his razor sharp tusks. Nothing could hurt her with a mate like him. Big barrel chest, powerful front legs, head high, ears erect, tusks ready for ripping, muscles moving easily with every galloping step. Mason was grace and power. He was perfection. Mine, her possessive owl declared.
Together they wound through the Boarlander woods, faster and faster, ducking and dodging the ancient pines of the forest. Mas
on wove through trails just below her, while she zigzagged gracefully around the trunks, her eyes ever dancing back to him. With a grunt, Mason looked up at her, then pushed his legs faster. Damn, he was quick, and she heaved breath as she rushed to keep up with him. God, she loved this—the wind brushing through her flight feathers, the night sounds quieting as they passed, the noise of Mason’s breath below her. Steam puffed in front of his face in the cool night air as he ran faster. She’d never felt joy like this. She’d never felt complete freedom. Changes near her hometown had to be done carefully so that no one saw a snowy owl where one didn’t belong. Here, in Damon’s mountains, she was safe to be herself. Safe to fly fast and far, and her mate was below, pushing her to test her wings.
When they came to a clearing, Mason skidded to a stop, billowing dust around him while Beck spread her wings against the breeze and thrust her talons out to assist in her quick slow-down. Beneath her, the fireflies had kicked up in the meadow. Little blinking dots lit up the night, like stars come to earth. Mesmerized, she circled lower and landed gently on the muscular hump between Mason’s shoulder blades. If her talons digging into his tough hide for balance bothered him, he didn’t show it. Instead, Mason relaxed under her and looked over his shoulder, his eyes soft and contrasting starkly against the ferocity of his warrior face.
And when he gave his attention back to the sparkling meadow, she flapped her wings languidly for balance. One of her downy white feathers floated down onto Mason’s dark bristled fur. How different they were on the outside, but how similar they were on the inside.
The fireflies lifted higher and higher, spreading out into the woods and reminding her that magic moments like this existed to brighten dark days. She’d been overwhelmed by the grit only a few hours ago, and then Mason had soothed her and gifted her beautiful relief.
Mason had been wrong when he’d questioned if he could make her happy.
Because here, in the firefly meadow, clinging to the strong back of the boar she loved, Beck had never been happier.