Bear in the Rough: Bear Shifter Romance (Broken Hill Bears Book 1) (6 page)

Too soon, the bell rang. Xander’s team tried to help him to his feet, but he shook them off with a roar and bounded across the ring. Troy swaggered up to meet him, but he wasn’t prepared for Xander’s onslaught and Xander landed him a right hook followed by an uppercut that sent him sprawling against the ropes with so much force that he fell right through them, over the edge of the platform, and crashed to the ground in front of the audiences’ feet. Freya didn’t see him land as he was on the far side, but there was no mistaking the mocking laughter that followed. His opponent had humiliated him. Xander didn’t celebrate though; he stood in the center of the ring, hands loosely bunched into fists, and calmly waited for him. Freya glowed with pride for this fighter who she’d only heard of half an hour ago. There was something about him; something calm and dignified. Animal though he was, he seemed almost regal.

Troy hauled himself up onto the platform and vaulted into ring. And then he became a whirlwind of fury, aiming kicks and punches and head-butts wildly, his face contorted with hatred. They ended round five both on their feet, then round six, seven and eight. By the start of round nine, both men were covered in bruises and gashes and bleeding heavily from cuts on their faces. One of Troy’s eyes was swollen and half shut, while Xander had a black bruise under his eye from his smashed nose.

The bell rang and both of them went in hard. For a while it was a pure show of strength, fists pounding on flesh, and Troy was being pushed backward, against the ropes. Xander seemed confused; Freya saw his brow furrow. Was Troy giving in too easy? Too late, he realized it was a trick. As Troy fell back into a corner, he used his arms to support himself while he brought both legs up in a powerful kick. He connected with Xander’s jaw, sending him spinning across the ring, and crashing down onto his back. Freya expected him to get up right away, but he didn’t. He lay spread-eagled. Troy paced in front of him and gave a howl of victory. The referee began the count. Ten seconds. By three, Xander hadn’t moved at all. By five, he lifted his head, but his body seemed to be paralyzed. At seven, he struggled to get up, but collapsed down again. Freya’s hands clenched the arms of her seat so hard that her muscles cramped. Every single fiber of her being was focused on Xander.

“Get up, Xander! You can do it!” she screamed, far louder than she’d intended. In fact, she hadn’t planned on shouting at all. It was as if the voice had come out of her, completely outside of her control.

Suddenly, in a single movement, Xander pulled himself up into a standing position, like a giant coming to life. Freya clasped her hands together, waiting. Hoping. He looked a little stunned, but he was up. He wiped his arm across his face and waved, letting everyone know he was good to continue. Troy didn’t give him a second to recover, launching himself at him again, both fists blazing. With an expression of disbelief on his face, Xander aimed a high kick, which connected with his jaw, sending him spinning. Freya cheered. The bell rang. Xander slumped down in his corner.

Freya discovered that she was trembling with nerves. In this moment, she wanted this big, strong man to win more than anything. He was a decent being; she felt that strongly. He hadn’t resorted to any dirty tricks, despite the constant onslaught from Troy. He just fought hard and fair. She looked hard into his face and saw the strain; recognized that he was dying for the fight to be over.

As the bell rang, he got to his feet, his huge shoulders bunched and his fists up high. Troy looked lazy in comparison. He thought he was winning; that he just had to fend his opponent off for a couple more rounds. He was wrong. Xander strode over to him, drew his arm right back, and landed a massive punch right in Troy’s face. Troy’s head snapped back, a spray of blood burst from his face, following the trajectory of the blow, and he staggered. The stadium went silent again. He took two steps backward, held his arms out to the side for balance, then, with an almighty crash, he fell to the ground.

He didn’t move, for the full ten seconds of the count.

The referee bounded into the ring and seized Xander’s arm.

“The fight is over. I declare Xander the Great, of The Broken Hill Bears, the winner, and new Bear Wrestling Champion!” he bellowed, and pulled Xander’s arm up high in the air. Xander’s tired face lit with a grin, and the crowd went wild. Freya realized that her cheeks were damp with tears. It had been the most tense, emotional few minutes of her life. And she was so proud of this man-bear fighter.

As Troy continued to lie unconscious on the mat, Xander paraded around the ring, massive fists raised in victory.

“Xander, are you going to let the audience know how you feel?” the compère shouted over the screaming of the crowd. With a broad grin, Xander snatched the mike that was offered to him.

“I guess Troy’s parents should’ve researched his name before they gave it to him,” Xander bellowed. “Because – do you know what it means? It means a town that fell. It fell because its occupants were as dumb as shit and they let themselves get tricked.” He paused as the crowd roared their approval. “Well, I’m telling you, I didn’t have to trick this motherfucker tonight! I just beat him fair and square. Because that’s what Xander the Great does! And if any more of those losers from the Black Paws want to fight me, I’ll conquer all your asses too!” The volume of screams and whoops doubled again, and Freya joined in with the rest. There was something so compelling about this man’s words. He was smart, she could tell.
He knew stuff.

Xander handed the mike back, gave a final victory salute, and climbed out of the ring. But, instead of walking toward the tunnel, he exited on the other side, the side closest to Freya. He jumped down from the platform, and suddenly, he was standing right in front of her. Only a pane of glass separating them. Up close, he was even more huge and muscular than he’d seemed on stage. His skin was deeply tanned and streaked with blood and sweat, and his eyes were two dark pools of intensity. Freya drank in the sight of him, unable to believe that he was almost within touching distance. And then he came right up to the glass. Those dark eyes looked into her own, with such soulfulness. His lips parted and he mouthed the words, “thank you”. He laid his hand flat on the glass, long, thick fingers spread. Her heart fluttering in her chest, Freya instinctively reached out with her own hand and laid it on the glass too, in a mirror of his. He smiled at her. Then he stepped away from the glass and was gone.

Freya gasped for breath.
What just happened?
People in the seats around her started muttering, asking questions.

“How do you know him?” one girl asked suspiciously.

“I don’t,” she protested, several times, her head spinning.
Why did he thank me?
She replayed the moment again and again. His eyes burning into hers; those luscious lips silently forming the words.
Maybe it wasn’t ‘thank you?’ But what else could it be?

Some music had started up again – a loud, insistent rock anthem. The atmosphere in the stadium became very tense, the audience clapping fast. Freya looked around. The ring was empty; Troy had been carried off, or maybe he’d limped off by himself. And then a terrific roar rent the air, followed by another one and another. The hairs on Freya’s arms stood on end. This wasn’t a human sound. It was the sound of wild animals.

“Tonight, for the final part of the evening, please welcome to the stage, The Broken Hill Bears!” the compère announced. Freya’s mouth fell open as several bears ran through the tunnel and bounded into the ring. Letting off growls and snarls, they stood up on their hind legs and surveyed the audience. They were absolutely terrifying. They had black fur, light brown muzzles, bright eyes, rows of gleaming white teeth and razor-sharp claws at the end of each massive paw. People screamed in mingled fear and excitement, and Freya felt a shivery thrill running all the way through her body. One of the bears took a swipe at another one with its paw, and suddenly, they were all fighting, rolling and tumbling and pinning each other to the ground, huge jaws clamped around each other’s throats. They were only fighting for show, she realized quickly with relief. They weren’t drawing blood, and there were no howls of pain.

The show continued for a few minutes, before the bears stopped, tumbled out of the ring and returned the way they’d come. All except for one. The biggest bear of all exited in her direction and came right up to the glass. The people around her screamed and shrank away from the glass. Some of them clambered over the backs of their seats in fear. But Freya sat frozen as the bear approached her. It sat back on its hind legs and laid its front paws on the glass. She could see the sharp claws and big leathery pads in fine detail. Its bright black eyes bored into hers, somehow seeming to be looking right into her soul. And then its tongue shot out from between its jaws, and it licked the glass with the tip of its pink tongue. She laid her fingertips against the spot. And then it was gone, in the blink of an eye.

There was a shocked silence, before the voices around her started up again, demanding to know who she was and why Xander and then one of the bears had been to see her. They were getting louder, more intrusive. People started touching her, desperate to attract her attention. In the blur of faces she picked out flickers of anger and incomprehension from both men and women. They were Xander’s biggest fans, yet he’d chosen to approach her. It was too much. Way too much. She stood up, pushed her way past the crowds and rushed through the exit. Once outside, she spied a tree right at the edge of the stadium entrance. She dived behind it and sucked in a huge lungful of air.
Wow
.
What just happened?
An amazing, brave, fearless, sexy wrestling man had just picked her out of the crowd, for a reason she couldn’t begin to imagine. And, as if that wasn’t enough, a bear had then picked her out too.
Were they one and the same? Why would he pick me?
she replayed the event in her mind.
He’d acted like he knew me,
she realized.

It must be a case of mistaken identity. That was it. He thought I was somebody else. She felt oddly dejected. As weird as those moments had been, they were also pretty cool. She recalled the sight of Xander’s huge, callused hand on the glass, the way she’d felt an intense compulsion to press her hand against it. His was almost twice the size of hers though. What would it feel like to hold his hand? To be enveloped by it? And those eyes. He’d given her such a look – intense, like he was looking at somebody he knew well, but also wistful and a little surprised. Maybe he’d mistaken her for a long-lost flame.
But a guy like that would be with a stunning woman; a one-of-a-kind. And I’m just ordinary-looking,
she reminded herself.
And way too curvy. He probably dates girls who look like the card girls. Lithe, feline types who keep him on his toes.

Just then, she spotted the two girls from the motel, heading to the parking lot, and she ran after them, keen to get a ride back home.
I can’t wait to tell Eloise and Marin about my night,
she thought to herself, as she climbed into their car.

Back at Broken Hill, Xander was pumped. He’d done it. Rocco had been right. Kicking the crap out of that Black Paw half-breed had showed everyone that he was tough enough. He saw it in his clan’s eyes after the fight – a respect that hadn’t been there before. Even Maximus clapped him on the shoulder and said “good job, Brains.” It hadn’t been easy by any means. He smirked to himself as he recalled the look of surprise on Troy’s face as he realized that he wasn’t going to come back from that last punch. He’d been talking so much shit in the ring, boasting that he was going to take down the whole Broken Hill clan, starting with its pussy leader. And then,
Bam!
He’d taken him out. At the recollection, his bear let off a victory roar. It would be a long time until one of the Black Paws dared challenge him again, that was for sure.

He leaned back on his living room couch and scratched at the short hair on the back of his neck. He was done with wrestling now. He’d proved himself, and pulled off enough theatrics to keep the crowds happy. Now it was time to get back to the serious business of leading his clan. A task that should be somewhat easier now that the Black Paws understood that the Broken Hill Bears had a formidable leader, who wasn’t going to stand any bullshit. He went to the fridge and brought back an ice-cold beer. He popped the cap with his teeth, took a long swig, and let off a drawn-out sigh. He was wrong about the theatrics being over. He well knew that being a leader was as much about a show of toughness as actually being tough when it counted. He needed to make some changes to show that he had his own style of leadership. He needed to be seen to be tough and uncompromising.

But first he needed to restore the harmony between his human and bear sides. He’d barely been able to keep his bear under control during the fight. That moment when it had forced him right over the ropes and into the face of a member of the audience.
Twice!
Once in his human form and then in his bear form. What must the girl have thought when a huge, bloody guy like him had charged up to her? To her credit, she hadn’t run away screaming like all the other humans around her. She’d sat firm, gazed back at him with those haunting dark eyes, as if she was looking right into his soul. She was the one whose voice he’d heard when he was down on the mat and almost out for the count. It had come through the fog of pain that was shuttering his brain, clear and sweet and strong. “Get up, Xander! You can do it!” she’d called, with such conviction.
She’s strong enough for you. She could be your mate,
his bear kept insisting. After that, it was more interested in meeting her than kicking the crap out of Troy. His bear didn’t enjoy wrestling anyway. It couldn’t understand why he’d choose to fight in his human form when he’d be so much stronger if he let it compete with its flashing teeth and razor claws.
She couldn’t be my mate because she’s a human who views me as a dangerous animal, and could only be in my presence if there was bullet-proof glass and an electric fence separating us,
he reminded himself.
But what a pretty, sweet-looking girl,
he allowed himself to think for another few seconds.
Such incredible dark, shiny hair, like a sheet of silk.
And she looked strong and outdoorsy, with a healthy tan and a cute scattering of freckles on her nose that he bet only came out in the sun.

He finished his beer and grabbed another one, and, with a gargantuan effort, pushed the pretty human out of his mind. She was an all-too-strong reminder that he needed to find a mate. Now that he was beginning to understand that showing was sometimes as important as doing, he was also realizing that Rocco was right: he needed a mate to show that he was a stable Alpha, in an established line, ready to produce cubs and continue his lineage. Where would he find one? His own clan and any neighboring clan that was on good terms with the Broken Hill Bears were acceptable options. But he didn’t even know where to start. Was he supposed to start asking females out on dates? He’d dated a lot when he was in his teens, as many females had been drawn to his huge size and striking looks, but he felt rusty. Female company in the military had mostly involved hooking up with other soldiers. He liked female soldiers a lot. They were incredibly tough and straightforward, and they didn’t look for romance or promises. There was no time or energy for that. Unbidden, he found himself thinking of the girl at the ringside again. She had a softness that female shifters and human soldiers lacked. Sweet, ripe curves. He felt a tingle in his groin as he imagined holding her soft body in his hands, pleasuring her, claiming her as his own.
Enough!
He shook his head to free himself from those thoughts.

Right on cue, there was a hard rap on his door.

“It’s open!” he called. The door swung open smoothly and Mihaila bounded in. He grinned. She was about the only person he could deal with right now. He knew that she wouldn’t badger him about any of his current obligations.

“Nice work, brains!” she exclaimed in her strong, melodious voice. “You really took that motherfucker down!” He smiled at her.

“I guess I did.” She plumped herself down on the couch beside him.

“Are there any more of those going?” she said, pointing to his beer.

“In the fridge.” She also popped the cap with her teeth and settled down again.

“Everyone’s talking about you. You really showed them tonight, you know? And the girls are gossiping like crazy. After the match, Nicoletta was asking me for your number. I said she’d have to knock my teeth out before I’d give it to a skank ass like her.” Xander laughed.

“And what did she say?”

“She said, ‘anytime baby’, in that sleazy way she’s got.” Mihaila sniffed and tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. “Man, I’d love to take her down. I sure would.”

“Mihaila,” Xander said slowly, as an idea occurred to him. “Would you like to start wrestling too, instead of working as a card girl?” Mihaila leapt up from the couch and her tiger let out a joyous roar.

“Hell, yes!” she screamed. “I’ve always wanted to wrestle.” She stopped and her voice dropped to a few decibels above a whisper. “But your dad didn’t approve, A) of females fighting in front of humans, and B) of non-bears fighting.” Xander nodded slowly.

“He was a traditionalist. But I think our fans would love it. And it’ll make you – and some of the other females, I’m sure – more fulfilled too.”

“And I’ll get to kick the crap out of that Black Paw skank in public!”

“Yes you will,” Xander replied with an affectionate grin. “That’s if you think you’ll be capable of keeping your tiger in.” She waved her hand dismissively and her tiger gave some little, beseeching purrs.

“Child’s play,” she said. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve had to control myself over the years with all the shit she’s said to me while we’ve been prancing around the ring.” Xander lifted his hands in agreement.

“Okay, mission approved.”

“Aye, aye soldier. I’ll speak to The Black Paws and see if they’re tough enough to fight.”

“No.
I’ll
speak to them,” he replied. She saluted him.

“Sure thing, boss.”