REDEEM THE BEAR
(BEAR VALLEY SHIFTERS, BOOK 5)
By T. S. JOYCE
Other Books in this Series
Bear Valley Shifters
The Witness and the Bear (Book 1)
Devoted to the Bear (Book 2)
Return to the Bear (Book 3)
Betray the Bear (Book 4)
Redeem the Bear
Copyright © 2014 by T. S. Joyce
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the United States Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, redistributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Dedication
For the Co-Captains.
Prologue
Two more sleeps until war.
One more day until Hannah Michaels could lose everything she had found. Friends who were more like family, a home…Riker.
She glanced out the kitchen window for the tenth time in the past hour, but her mate still wasn’t there. A surge of anger and panic took her as she cleaned the Glock Jimmy had given her. Had it been only a few months since he and Jeremy had died? It seemed like a lifetime ago—like someone else’s lifetime. Time slipped by so differently now.
Bear Valley had brought her peace. From the way she had let her nerves get to her when she woke from a fitful sleep and got sick in the bathroom earlier, perhaps Bear Valley’s sanctuary had weakened her.
Riker should’ve been in bed by now, in her arms. They had to wake in five hours to leave for the Bridger Teton National Forest to meet the Long Claws for battle. That forest would be haunted with the injustice of so much lost life by the time they were finished with it. Would Riker fall this time?
“Stop it,” she gritted out, loading a full magazine into the weapon until the clack of metal on metal echoed through the kitchen. She couldn’t afford to think like that if she was going to get through this.
Riker was alpha of Bear Valley and one of the strongest bear shifters on earth. She had to trust his experience. He’d led more battles than any other shifter in existence. And after all she had been through, she couldn’t believe for a moment that Riker would be taken from her so soon. She just couldn’t.
“You should be in bed, love,” Riker rumbled in a deep voice behind her.
She smiled as his presence settled her. “I tried, but you weren’t around to tuck me in.” She turned in her chair and spread her knees wide. His cool blue gaze dipped between her legs, and she lifted the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. The lucky lacy panties she had chosen for the trip still sat in her drawer, and a smirk stretched his sensual lips. She breathed for that smile.
Phantoms swam in the blue of his eyes—worry for his people, the strain of impending battle, weariness from preparation. She had the power to make everything go away for a while. For both of them.
Slowly he stalked her, removing his shirt as he approached. Lithe muscle moved across his stomach and chest, and she inhaled deeply. He took the weapon from her hand and set it on the chair beside her with a clunk, then cleared the table with a swipe of his arm. The supplies she had used to clean her weapon clattered to the floor.
“No bed?” she asked, amused.
“You forgot your panties,” he observed huskily as he lifted her onto the mahogany dining table.
“You always rip them off,” she breathed as his lips found her neck.
His finger slid into her and she gasped.
“You don’t like the sound of the fabric ripping?” he murmured against her sensitive earlobe.
“Riker,” she whispered as he circled his finger inside of her.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes. I like the sound.”
Fingers fumbling, she pulled at the button of his jeans, desperate for his skin against hers. Her body was so sensitive, like all of her nerve endings were lit fuses, waiting for Riker to relieve the burn.
He didn’t even allow her to kick his jeans to the floor before he pulled her legs apart and thrust into her. He pressed against her, harder and harder, until she was engorged with him. Helplessly, she moaned as his lips pressed against hers, tongue driving into her mouth with the rhythm of his bucking hips. Release crashed through her and he slowed, stroking gently as the aftershocks pulsed around him.
“Hannah,” he whispered, easing back. His eyes looked so open, so vulnerable. She was the only one in the world who was privy to this side of him. He searched her face and swallowed hard, like the words he would speak tasted of poison. “I can’t lose you.”
You won’t. She wanted to reassure him with the words so badly, but what chance did she have in a war between bear shifters? She was human and weak. The oracle who had warned him that she would break him someday was going to be right. So many would lay in a field of blood after this battle, and she would be one of them.
Riker pulled her shirt over her head and leaned her back onto the table. The wood was cold where it met her skin, hard and unforgiving like Riker had been when she’d first met him. The table creaked under him as he placed himself between her legs.
“You don’t understand, Hannah. I can’t.”
Frowning, she asked, “What are you saying?”
“You can’t use the gun on the field. It’s against clan law. You won’t be fighting with the rest of us. I need you in the medical tent with Daria.”
Hannah couldn’t just stand around while her people were dying. She had faced Stone, the man she’d testified against, and all of the murderous hit men he sent after her. She had learned to fight—had become strong and hard. It had to be for something. If not for this war, then for what? “That’s asking too much. I can’t just stand in a tent, waiting to see the outcome. Waiting to see if you live. If Joanna, Anya, Brody, Chase…everyone I’ve grown to care about. To see if they’ll be brought to me in pieces while I just stood around and did nothing.”
Riker thrust into her again and she moaned deep in her throat. He wasn’t playing fair.
Sliding out slowly, he crashed into her again and pleasure built so deeply, her blood hummed.
“Promise me you’ll stay with Daria until the battle is done.”
Arching against him, the dining room light above them blurred as she met his agonizingly slow penetration. She was putty, numb and useless to coherent thought.
What was he asking again? Oh, yeah. For her to stay behind. No fucking way.
“Riker,” she said with a ready rejection.
“Oh, Hannah,” he breathed against her ear. His hips flexed and a soft groan left his sexy lips. Damn him, she was swirling off for outer space again.
He gripped her hair and his movements became jerkier. Arms flexed hard as stone, hips pumping slowly into her as another orgasm built to blinding.
Just as she was on the edge, ready to spill over the side of the cliff with him, he eased back and gripped her hair tighter. “Mate, promise me,” he demanded as quiet as a breath.
His eyes looked so raw, so full of emotion and right in this moment, she’d agree to anything in her power. He was scared of losing her. So scared, the fear had etched itself into the impossibly blue hues of his gaze.
A tear fled the outer corner of her eye and she offered the barest nod.
“Say it,” he said, pressing into her again.
“I promise.”
Squeezing his eyes closed, as if the relief were too much to share with her, his hips crashed against hers again and again until she clawed his back and came as he poured into her with warm, throbbing shots.
Holding him close
as their pounding hearts mirrored each other, she stared at the kitchen ceiling. She would follow through with her promise, and it would mess with her plans.
Giving up wasn’t an option though. Not until the battle began.
If she could save Bear Valley from the bloody reach of the Long Claws, then promise or no, she was going to find a way.
Chapter One
Brooks gasped and sat up in bed. He’d had the dream again—always the same, always haunting. Why now? It had been years since he’d put it to rest.
There was a woman, or a girl perhaps, though he could never see her face. A necklace dangled between them and the end was always the same. She opened her mouth wide and screamed. The sound of terror echoed through him, and woke him frightened.
He hated it.
The dream was the only thing in the world he was afraid of now. He was second in the Long Claw Clan. Not even death itself conjured fear anymore.
No, that wasn’t right. After today he wouldn’t be second anymore. A pang of grief struck him as he remembered his alpha had fallen. Nathan could’ve been great. In his lifetime he could’ve expanded the Long Claw’s territory by ten times. Brooks didn’t know why his alpha had gone to Bear Valley two nights ago, but he had been the one to take the call from Riker.
The alpha of the enemy clan had tried to explain what happened, but Brooks didn’t give a shit what excuses he made. They had killed Nathan, outside of their territory and against clan law. They had killed the last living polar bear shifter before he was able to continue his lineage. They were all going to die under the Long Claw’s wrath.
Riker defended his clan’s right to kill Nathan, and Brooks had wanted to shatter the phone against the wall. Instead, he had declared war. Bear Valley would burn for what they had done.
Now, after two days of mourning and preparation, alpha challenges would be made to determine who would lead the clan into battle.
The dream of the faceless woman was a bad omen for how this would go.
Scrubbing his hands over his two day stubble, he slid out of bed and showered. It was pointless going into one of these brutal challenges clean, but he had another hour before he was supposed to be at the arena, and he couldn’t risk having the dream a second time by going back to sleep.
Showered and shaved, he dressed and went for a jog. Nothing too strenuous, just enough physical exertion to warm up his muscles. He needed this to clear his head before the fights began. Bear shifters trained for this all year, the chance to take over alpha rank, and he was no different. It had just come much earlier than he had expected this time around.
A surge of fury took him when he thought of Bear Valley. Nathan had died alone, among enemies. Brooks gritted his teeth and sped up his pace. He was going to make them all pay in blood.
Pine, spruce and alder bathed in the shades of dawn whipped by him as he passed, and he steadied his breathing to match every third step. He liked time alone before he faced his responsibilities to the clan every day, so the trail he jogged was always the same. He took the rarely used path to the old Kodiak cabins. When the Long Claws had settled here a couple of years back, he’d been intrigued by the cabins. He had wondered how the Kodiaks lived way out here with such a small clan and little money. They had been doomed the second Nathan had set his sights on them.
Brooks would never admit it out loud, but he wished Nathan would’ve left them alone. It was sad killing them. The Kodiaks barely put up a fight, it happened so fast.
Sure, he knew the necessity of fighting other bear shifters. It had been pounded into his head since he was a boy, but sometimes the why of it all confused him. Bear Valley deserved this war, but had the Kodiaks? He still didn’t know.
A dozen dilapidated log homes in disrepair sat along the path he ran. Others in the clan called them haunted. They said ghosts roamed the houses, but to him, he’d always found a strange kind of sanctuary in them. They seemed…familiar—homier even than his big house near Nathan’s.
Well, by the house that used to be Nathan’s, he corrected himself. Fucking Bear Valley.
He made a wide loop and exited the woods near the training arena. In the early light, he could see the jungle gardens that had done so well in the rains of Wyoming. At the last place the main clan of Long Claws lived, water had been scarce and maintaining the gardens had been a struggle as they tried to grow enough for the entire clan to thrive through winter. Three smaller factions lived in the wilderness of Utah, Nevada and southern Montana. They would be gathering tonight in the Bridger Teton National Forest, uniting as one to destroy Bear Valley.
The thought sent a surge of pride through him. He was a part of the most powerful bear shifter clan in the world. He scanned the arena where the entire community was gathering in the early morning light. He was about to take his shot at leading them into war.
The caller blasted a long, haunting note on a horn to bring in the stragglers. Alpha challenges were mandatory for every able member. In challenges of the past, there had been merriment and bets being placed, raucous discussions over predicted winners and cheering when the caller announced the first pair of challengers. Not this time. Now, the clan was still in deep mourning over their late alpha. This challenge wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just part of the aftermath of losing Nathan. Now, no one muttered much over a whisper if they spoke at all.
A hundred bear shifters waited somberly around the edges of the arena fence as the first challengers stepped in the ring. Omar and Chris Reed were first. Brothers who had been drawn together, but anyone with instincts for battle could tell who would win this one. Chris was smarter, but Omar had the brawn and the ruthless savagery to match his size.
Two brown bears burst from the pacing men and the caller was barely out of the way before they crashed against each other, locked with ripping claws like they would kill each other. Maybe they would. More tragic things had happened in the pursuit of alpha than two brothers warring to the death for the title.
Brooks leaned against the fence railing, scratching his bottom lip with the corner of his thumbnail as he studied how Omar moved. He jerked his head to the left when he was about to rake a claw out, and his shoulders tensed when he was about to lunge.
When Chris lay in a tattered pile in the mud, Omar shifted back into his human form and yelled a victor’s cry. Merit, the woman who had come from the Long Claws to become one of Nathan’s mates, kissed him soundly when Omar returned to the fence. She had apparently picked her next target in Omar.
Greta and April stood somberly to the side, a fog of misery around them as if they didn’t want to be here, watching the challenges. Both of Nathan’s mates were dressed in black from head to toe, and Greta seemed to be sniffling. She had been inconsolable at the funeral. Those two were good examples of how a proper mate should act. Not like this Merit woman who was now looking around with her chin lifted primly in the air, as if the somber congratulations and slow applause were for herself.
Brooks made a single click against his teeth and looked away. He had no respect for alpha chasers, and less for a woman who latched onto another when her lover was barely cold in his grave.
His gaze landed on Greta again and he shook his head slowly. If he were interested in a mate, he’d take one of them just to ease their plight. They would be moved out of their roomy house and cast to the outskirts of the clan without Nathan here to garner respect.
Nathan’s appetites had been too many to foist upon one mate. Or at least, that’s what he had told Brooks when he’d had too much to drink one night. The late alpha didn’t have friends. He had picked Brooks solely for his size and battle readiness, but sometimes he thought if Nathan hadn’t been alpha, and if his bear hadn’t glutted on the power from it and pushed the humanity from him, they would’ve gotten along fine. Instead, the relationship had only existed on mutual respect, one warrior to another. He had talked about the need for several mates to continue his lineage, but it was all bullshit. Nathan had been looking for something.
He’d been searching for someone to fix whatever was broken inside of him.
Brooks didn’t need anyone to fix him. If he needed something done, he’d do it his damned self. That’s where Nathan had failed. He’d chased women, mates, and lost sight of the Long Claw’s future. Brooks would cut off his arm before he let what happened to Nathan happen to him. Women muddied the mind.
He dragged his gaze back to Merit, who now had her dress hiked up her thighs. Omar had her backed against a tree and was pumping his load into her as she moaned loud enough to be heard over the roaring bears now battling in the arena. No one seemed to notice or care that the almost mate of the late alpha was getting thoroughly fucked where everyone could see.
“Brooks and Darren,” the caller yelled out.
Inhaling deeply to wipe the sight of Merit and Omar from his mind, he closed his eyes and opened them slowly, focusing on Darren. He was big, and a good fighter, but Brooks’ bear was secure in his impending victory. He had yet to find a match for his animal, and Darren wasn’t going to be the first.
At twenty-four, Brooks had waited until he was seasoned in the arena, until his bear was full-grown and mature enough to win this fight. He’d waited until his gangly legs and arms had been layered with muscle. Brooks had waited to challenge for alpha until he knew he was ready, not just physically, but mentally as well. If he won here today, he would lead his clan into battle, then in the aftermath, he’d bring it back to its former glory.
He didn’t give a shit about rank, or the power it would afford him. His challenge stemmed from the simple fact that he had been born with an innate need to lead people. Suppressing it for the past ten years had been hard, but this was it.
He stepped into the arena and pulled his shirt over his head, preparing his inner bear for the bloodshed that would occur here today.
His time was now.