LUMBERMAN WEREBEAR
(SAW BEARS, BOOK 7)
By T. S. JOYCE
Other Books in the Series
This book was not written as a standalone.
The author recommends to read these stories in order for optimal reader enjoyment.
Lumberjack Werebear (Book 1)
Woodcutter Werebear (Book 2)
Timberman Werebear (Book 3)
Sawman Werebear (Book 4)
Axman Werebear (Book 5)
Woodsman Werebear (Book 6)
As well as the spinoff Fire Bears series
Bear My Soul (Book 1)
Bear the Burn (Book 2)
Bear the Heat (Book 3)
Lumberman Werebear
Copyright © 2015 by T. S. Joyce
Copyright © 2015, T. S. Joyce
First electronic publication: July 2015
T. S. Joyce
www.tsjoycewrites.wordpress.com
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Published in the United States of America
Chapter One
Haydan’s life as he knew it was over.
He glared at the glass case of liquor behind the bar and contemplated his next drink. It needed to be strong to get rid of the trapped feeling inside of his gut.
None of this was Tagan’s fault. His alpha had to make difficult decisions for the Ashe Crew, and he’d been wrestling with this one for months. Years even. And now the day had come. Tomorrow morning, Haydan would be registering as a shifter and outing himself to the public along with the rest of his crew. No, it wasn’t Tagan’s fault. It was M—”
“Drinking alone?” a man asked from behind him.
Haydan scented the air. It stank like a Gray Back. Haydan laughed as he slid a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder. “Matt Barns, I was just thinking about how I wanted to kill you. What the fuck do you want?”
“A word.” He sank onto the barstool beside Haydan and nodded his chin to the twenty-something blond beauty bartender with the warm smile. “I’ll have what he’s having. Oh,” Matt said, staring at Haydan’s shot glass, “it’s a straight whiskey night, is it? Too long with no pussy will do that to you.”
“Are we gonna do this or what?” Haydan asked dryly. Matt didn’t have to work him up to start a brawl in the parking lot. He was ready now.
“Believe it or not, I didn’t come in here to fight you,” Matt said, failing to meet his eyes. “I need a favor.”
“No.” Haydan dragged his attention back to the old television positioned above the bar. A news station was running a piece on the dangers of shifters to society. It had been two years since the Breck Crew had come out, and still some humans were holding onto fear.
“You haven’t even heard what I want yet.”
Haydan jacked up his eyebrows and downed his shot. Gritting his teeth against the burn in his throat, he slammed the glass down and threw a wad of ones onto the counter before he stood. “And I don’t care.”
“I need you to claim my sister.”
Those words halted Haydan’s escape. A shake of the head didn’t help clear his confusion, so he turned and asked, “What did you say?”
“I said I need you to claim my sister.”
“First off, I don’t even believe you have a sister.”
“What?” Matt asked, his blue eyes narrowing. “Why would I lie about something like that?”
“Because I’ve seen you with women. You fuck ’em and leave ’em. Every time I see you in here, you’re chasing a new tail. You kissed Danielle without permission. You remember that, asshole? Denison still has your name at the top of his shit-list. No man with a sister, who grew up with a female, can disrespect them like that.”
Matt pulled something out of his wallet and slammed it onto the bar top. Haydan sat back on his stool and picked up the small black and white picture. It was of two kids, maybe ten and sixteen. The older one looked like a younger version of Matt, sandy brown hair cut in a chili bowl, with the same vivid blue eyes. He was smiling, and the girl he had tucked under his arm next to him looked nothing like him. She was a flaxen blonde with short, mangled hair, freckled skin, and a dimply grin. She was lean and lanky while Matt, at sixteen, was hitting his grizzly growth spurts and packing muscle on his frame.
“She’s my adopted sister,” Matt said low.
Huh. Somehow that made more sense.
“Is she human?”
“So you are interested in claiming her then?”
“No!” Haydan tossed him a drop-dead look and handed him the picture back. “My bear isn’t like the rest of my crew’s, Matt. I’m the fuck ’em and leave ’em kind, too. Best not trust your sister with a commitment-phobe, mmm-kay? Good luck marrying off your sister to complete strangers, though.”
Matt’s eyes went cold as winter. “She’s a bear, not a human, and her mate died last year. She needs a safe place to live where her crew’s alpha won’t claim her against her will.”
“Bears don’t do that.”
“Grizzlies don’t. She ain’t a grizzly, though. She’s a black bear. Her crew was one of those backwoods types. She lost her mate to an alpha challenge, and the new leader gave her a year to mourn.” Matt’s light brows arched high as he angled his chin and leveled Haydan with a look. “Year’s up. She needs a mate and a new crew to keep her safe.”
“Yeah, and why don’t you initiate her to the Gray Backs? Females don’t need to be paired up.” Haydan dipped his voice low and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You’re a friggin’ apex predator shifter. Why don’t you protect her yourself?”
“Because the Ashe Crew is under Damon Daye’s protection.”
“Fuck, Matt.” Haydan leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his short hair. “You think a crew of backwoods black bears is a threat to the Gray Backs? Why are you dumping that shit on my lap?”
“She’s not shit. She’s a person, prick.” Matt’s voice had gone growly and low.
“I’m not doin’ it. I was serious when I said I don’t have the instinct to claim a mate. And furthermore,” he gritted out, getting riled up again, “you’re the fuckin’ reason we have to come out to the public tomorrow. You telling every woman in this town you’re a bear shifter so you can sleep with groupies has pretty much exposed all of us. The Boarlanders are registering tomorrow, too, and your alpha told Tagan your crew will be doing the same thing by week’s end. Because of you. I’m not doing any favors for you. If you’re so worried about your sister’s safety, being with a crew who is registering to the public is not going to keep her out of sight. And do you see this?” He pointed to the burn mark across his neck. It hurt and itched like hell.
Matt shrugged one shoulder, as if he didn’t care at all he was the reason the entire shifter population near Saratoga had to register. “Is it a hickey?”
“No, fuck-face. It’s a dragon burn.”
“Wait.” Matt lowered his voice to barely audible. “H
arper has the fire?”
“Yeah, just like her grand-daddy, and if you think Damon is dangerous, imagine a one-year-old who has just figured out she can shoot fire at anyone who tells her no.” He donned a humorless smile. “I got this because I plucked her from the sky when she shifted and tried to fly without Diem around.”
Matt snorted. “Now that’s funny right there.”
“It’s really not. Your timing sucks, and you’re trying to inject a stranger into a crew in chaos. It won’t work. Sorry, Matt. I’m not the schmuck for your sister.”
“My alpha banned women up at the Grayland Mobile Park. I can’t keep her safe.”
“Why would he ban women?”
“Because look at you. Your whole crew is shacked up except you. Once one bear gets a mate, the other bears follow. They’re like a friggin’ plague.”
“Nice,” Haydan said, nodding his head. “Women aren’t a plague, man. The Ashe Crew is stronger because of the bonds that have happened there. It’s not just Damon Daye keeping us safe. It’s the fact that if you mess with one of us, you get the wrath of everyone.”
Matt’s Cheshire cat grin was obnoxiously slow in spreading across his face. “Which is why I picked you for my sister. I don’t care that it’s you. And I don’t care if you don’t love her. She didn’t have that with her last mate, and she was fine.”
“As fulfilling as an emotionless claiming sounds, I’m really not your guy.”
“Arranged marriage worked for Diem and Bruiser.”
“Yeah, and it was a total fluke. It was a fluke! They got so damned lucky. My luck doesn’t work that way. I’m not doing a pity claim. No.” Haydan stood and strode for the door.
“I saved your crew,” Matt drawled out in a dangerous tone. “Remember that? I brought the Gray Backs and Boarlanders to your rescue on nothing more than a text from Danielle.”
“Ah, so you didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart?” Haydan asked, turning at the door. God, Matt was a disappointment.
“I did you a solid. I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for Cassie.”
Cassie. The name brushed a chill up his arms. Troubled, he slapped the back of his neck and checked behind him to make sure no one was standing there.
Haydan jerked his chin and shoved the exit door open. Just as he blasted into the night, he called over his shoulder, “Your sister, your problem.”
Matt Barns was asking him for a favor this huge? Ha. Hahaha. He should’ve given him a black eye just for trying to toss the weight of his sister’s safety around Haydan’s neck. Like a noose. Hell no. He was perfectly fine being a bachelor.
Liar.
Shut up, Bear.
He was mostly fine being a bachelor and had zero instincts to bring a woman up to the Asheland Mobile Park to see his humble abode. Backwoods black bears, geez. Not his circus, not his monkeys. Haydan’s plate was already overflowing with chaos, and bringing a strange woman back to his place to put under his bear’s protection would only spell trouble for him, and the entire crew.
No. Hell no. Nope, nope, nope.
He threw the door to his Jeep open and slammed the door so hard it rocked his ride.
“Are you finished with your mantrum?” a woman asked from the passenger’s seat.
Haydan huffed a short yell and kicked the door back open, then jumped out of there like a wasp had gotten trapped inside. “What are you doing in my car? And what the hell is a mantrum?”
“Man tantrum, and I’m waiting for you”—her full lips curved up in a humorless smile—“mate.”
Haydan hooked his hands on his hips and just stared. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, blond, but a few shades darker than the little girl in Matt’s picture. Her make-up was smudged and her eyes red like she’d been crying, but other than that, she was putting on quite a show of bravado.
“I have a list of my negotiations.”
“Your what?”
Her eyes narrowed—green, perhaps hazel? It was hard to tell from the street light that filtered through the window.
“One, no anal.”
“Oh, here we go. Get out of my car.”
“Fine, anal, but only on your birthday.”
“I’m not interested in…that…on my birthday, or any other day of the year.”
She gasped out a relieved sound and put a check mark on a piece of paper she held clutched in her hand. “I like that. Exit only, am I right?”
Haydan’s eyebrows were now arched so high, his forehead muscles were growing tired. “I’m drunk.”
“Off two shots of whiskey?” Her voice dipped low as she squinted at the paper in her hands. “Lightweight.”
“Were you watching me in there?”
“Hell yeah. I was sitting at a table in the back, stealth-mode-style. I wasn’t going to let Matt sell me off to some missing-toothed, beer-gutted, hairy bear. Been there, done that, got the claiming mark.” She smiled sweetly. “Two, no complaining about my cooking. I try my best, but I suck at it, and you telling me how bad I suck at it isn’t going to help with my self-esteem.” She batted her eyelashes.
“Seems to me your self-esteem is just fine.” In fact, with the sharpness of her words and her ability to hold his gaze despite his grizzly pushing him to defend his territory, he likely couldn’t say anything that would hurt her confidence. “And I don’t need no woman cooking for me. Get out of my Jeep.”
“Our Jeep, lover.”
“Oh, my God,” he groaned. This was like talking to Matt 2.0. “Okay, so if you were watching, you likely heard all the reasons I’m saying no to…whatever this is.” An ambush?
“Yeah.” She drew her shoulders up to her ears as hurt slashed through her eyes. Looking away, she murmured, “You said I was shit, and you called me a pity claim. Too bad my last mate said the same thing.” She swung a vulnerable gaze to him before her expression hardened to indifference again. “It loses its sting the second time around.”
Well, now he felt like grit. With a sigh, he sat in the driver’s seat, door open so he could escape when he wanted. “Then why don’t you find a mate you care about? Learn your lesson from whatever happened and do it different this time around?”
Her voice took on an edge of bitterness. “You mean fall in love? Doesn’t exist for people like me and Matt. Or you, apparently. If your entire crew is shacked up, but you don’t want to drink their lovey-dovey Kool-Aid, what does that say about you? About your bear? Face it, Hagan—”
“Haydan—”
“We’re a match made in shifter heaven. I’m a good mate, monogamous. I suck at relationships, but I’ll never stop trying for you. So we aren’t in love. That’s not what either of us are interested in. I can give you unemotional, endless sex and cubs someday when you want them. In return, all I’m asking for is a claiming mark to cover the fucking—” Her voice broke, and she rubbed her neck, drawing his attention to the silky smooth skin there. Small bruises dotted her neck.
Gritting his teeth, Haydan yanked her hand away. “What’re those?”
“Nothing.”
“Cassie, is it?”
She nodded tenderly and swallowed like it hurt to.
“You have shifter healing, and you’re still bruised, which means whoever did this to you got you bad. Tell me what you are really negotiating for.” Damn, the woman was killing his buzz.
“Security. I don’t need love. I need to feel safe. It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt that, and you’re huge and have all those muscles, and you talk with such confidence and you have a freaking dragon burn on your neck, and you’re still upright. You don’t have to hold my hand, or kiss me, or give me affection. I’ll even sleep on the floor if that’s what you want. I just want a mate who can keep my last crew off my back, and Matt seems to think it’s you and the Ashe Crew.” Cassie wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, she was scanning the main drag of Saratoga in front of them with a faraway, troubled look in her eyes. “I’m not l
ooking for a bond, or for a happily ever after. I’m looking for a friend who has enough invested in me to defend me if my last asshole alpha comes for his claim.”
Haydan linked his hands behind his head and exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “This is a bad idea.”
“I’ll be a good mate.”
“Maybe, but I won’t. That’s a guarantee.”
“Will you choke me if I don’t do what you want?” She canted her head and cast him a challenging glare when he didn’t answer. “Well, would you?”
“I wouldn’t ever touch a woman out of anger.”
“Then you’ve already got my other beau beat. Do you want to hear my last rule?”
“Sure,” he said, defeated.
“No falling in love with me.”
He huffed air and nodded. Of course. He hated Matt, and now Haydan was going to claim his sister, who was just as emotionally detached as him. They were all the same—Matt, Cassie, and him—and that was tragic. No chance of love for any of them. “That won’t be a problem.”
Chapter Two
Cassie held onto her purse with a death grip to steady her shaking hands. Haydan could’ve said no. In fact, she’d fully expected him to, but for some reason, she’d convinced him to take her to the Ashe Crew.
And now she was sitting in a jacked-up Jeep with the man she’d watched at the bar like a schoolgirl with a crush. Insta-love was just this idea that silly romantics made up, and it wasn’t that. She didn’t even know the man or if they would get along. All she knew was that when she saw him sitting at the bar, brooding with those dark eyes and that burred head, with those curling tendrils of tattoo ink up his neck… With his muscular arms pressing against the thin fabric of the forest green sweater he wore, and the way his jeans clung to his powerful legs, well hell, she’d gotten one thing out of the way and off her checklist. She wouldn’t mind sleeping with him.
Unlike Carl. Carl, her previous alpha, she would definitely mind sleeping with. He’d had a bearable physique, yes, but he had a mean streak a mile wide. She’d seen him with other women he was trying to breed, and he didn’t seem to like the fairer sex much. And she wasn’t stupid. If she accepted his claim, he wouldn’t treat her any nicer.