Eventide of the Bear (The Wild Hunt Legacy #3) (8 page)

His eyes were so dark brown they were almost black and lacked any warmth at all. When his icy gaze ran over her, she felt as if she’d stepped into a snowbank. “You must be Emma.”

“Yes.” Her attempt at a smile fell flat. “Do you live here?”

“We’re moving in, yes.” His answer was terse. “I’m Ryder, Ben’s littermate. My cub and I just arrived.”

“Oh, how nice you…” Her voice trailed off. Oh, this was bad. Ben’d said the only prepared bedrooms were hers and his. At least two rooms would be needed for this male and the cub. And what about the cub’s mother?

Emma was occupying a room they’d need.

And really, if they knew what kind of a person she was, they wouldn’t want her here. Certainly not anywhere near such a sweet little girl.

Dismay swept through her. Somehow, Ben had made her feel welcome, but under this male’s cold assessment, her feeling of belonging had changed. It wasn’t right to be around other people. Not when she was…tarnished.

The female had
stopped herself before finishing her sentence, Ryder realized. Obviously, she didn’t think it was nice he and his cub had arrived. On the contrary, from the way her brows were drawing into a frown, she didn’t want them here. Why?

Because she was all settled in and enjoying a good deal?

Ryder studied her for a minute, feeling an unwelcome punch of attraction.

Although obviously half-starved, this female possessed ample curves that would attract a celibate troll, let alone a male as virile as his brother.

Ryder’s mouth tightened. He’d abandoned Ben because of a conniving female who’d wanted him only for what he could give her. She wasn’t the first mercenary female he’d met; wouldn’t be the last.

And here was this female tucked neatly into Ben’s house. She obviously didn’t welcome intruders. No surprise there. What female would give up a cahir with a great house and a good income?

By the God, Ryder felt twenty years older than Ben. His littermate had no idea how greedy females could be. Cahirs were protectors right to the marrow of their bones. And if a child or female needed him, Ben’d give his life to help. The bear had the biggest heart in the territory.

And he could be played. Any male could. Fuck, Ben wouldn’t be able to resist this beautiful female who claimed to be ill.

But was she? She looked healthy enough. Her eyes were clear, her complexion a clear ivory, her color flushed—probably with annoyance at having her plans ruined.

Yeah, she was looking at him as if he’d stolen her breakfast bunny. He decided against attempting to be sociable—the politeness skill sure as hell had never been in his toolbox anyway.

Instead, he tipped his head and backed out of the room.

Ben noticed Ryder
leaving Emma’s room. Had she called for help? “Problems?”

“Nah. Minette popped in there, but had already left before I could retrieve her.”

Ben considered him, surprised Emma hadn’t tried to keep Ryder in there to talk. She’d been increasingly bored. “She okay?”

Ryder gave him a puzzled look. “I suppose.” He noticed Minette peeking out of her room. “Kitten, let’s go downstairs and see what’s in your bag.”

Ben walked into Emma’s bedroom and stopped.

Sitting on the bed with her back to him, Emma was trying to pull on a pair of jeans Angie had provided. Before he could stop her, the harsh material scraped over her wound. The pain-filled sound she made twisted his gut.

“What the hell?” He strode across the room and sat on the bed beside her. “Emma, what are you doing?”

She ignored him and managed to get the jeans to her knees. Carefully, she rose from the bed, balanced on one leg, and pulled the waist up and over her round ass.

“What happened? Was Ryder rude?” Difficult to imagine. His taciturn brother might not sweet-talk a female, but he’d never been rude to one.

“No. He didn’t say anything.”

Then what the fuck?

“Sit down and talk to me, li’l female.” He curled his fingers in the waistband and tugged her back onto the bed.

The tears in her eyes defeated the effectiveness of her frustrated glare. “I know you have more people here now. They’ll need this room, so I’ll be out of your fur in a few minutes.”

“Not going to happen. You’re not healed up enough to leave.”

“I am. Now let go of me!” She tried to make him release her jeans and failed. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and a sob escaped her. “You stupid male!”

He saw the moment she lost her hold on her control, but rather than changing to a bear and doing some real damage, she merely thumped his shoulder with her tiny fists. Even when furious, she wouldn’t hurt him.

A snowdrift of pity piled up within him. This was about more than the housing accommodations, wasn’t it?

He lifted her up and yanked her jeans down. Her blows landed on his back like the slight sting of hail. As carefully as he could, he slid her pants off her legs. By the God, she’d torn the fragile tissue covering the hellhound bite. Blood trickled down her leg.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He grabbed gauze pads the healer had left on the nightstand.

As he bandaged her wound, she abandoned the struggle. Tears seeped from beneath her closed lids to run down her cheeks.

Fuming, he took a seat beside her. Didn’t she know what would happen to her out there, injured and helpless?

He sighed. Of course she did. She’d been nearly dead when they found her. And she still hadn’t told him why she’d been living in the forest. He’d let her evade his questions, figuring it was Calum’s job to quiz her, but if this continued, he’d pin her down and not let her up until she answered, no matter how much she cried. Or how badly he’d feel.

Probably much like he felt right now.

Normally, words came fairly easy to him, although often enough, he’d speak without thinking and make a hash of it. He didn’t want to fuck up now. Dammit.

Stroking his thumb over her soft cheek, he calmed his anger so he could talk without growling. “I don’t think the Mother approves of shifters throwing away her gift of life.”

“I’ve already destroyed lives,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

He frowned. She wasn’t very old. Mid-twenties, maybe. At the most. Perhaps a couple of males had asked her to lifemate, and she’d broken their hearts with her refusal? “I doubt you’ve done anything that awful, li’l bear.”

“Ben.” When she looked at him, her beautiful golden-brown eyes held more misery than anyone should endure. “I don’t deserve to live among the clan. Let me go.”

“No. You wouldn’t live a week, even in bear form.” Taking her unbandaged hand, he saw purpling bruises on her knuckles. She must have given him some pretty determined thumps.

Noticing, she turned white. “I’m sorry.” She pulled in a shuddering breath. “I can’t do anything right. Let me leave. Please.”

“Sweetie, that’s not going to happen.”

Her face crumpled, and her lower lip trembled. By the God, she was breaking his heart. Few Daonain survived clanless, so why did she want to retreat back into the wilderness?

She didn’t. He’d seen her light up when he walked in her room or when Angie and the healer visited. This pretty bear loved company, even though her awkwardness spoke of an unknowable amount of time alone.

“I don’t deserve to live among the clan.”
Sounded like guilt. Mistakes in the past.

How could he get her off this trail? If ever there was a blundering bear when it came to talking through emotions, that would be him. Perhaps, so was she.
Start there.
“I don’t know why you feel so guilty, but we’ll talk about it later.”

From the way her lips closed together, he could see that discussion would happen right about…never. Where the fuck was Calum when he needed him?

“But, darlin’, we’re bears,” he said. “We don’t hurt others because we want to play with our prey like cats. We’re not wolves to be pushed into idiocy by the pack. We stumble into stuff because sometimes we’re just clumsy. Yeah?”

Her eyes were still filled with tears, but she nodded.

There.
He had a scent to follow, to lead her up and out of this fucking chasm. “Can’t go through life without screwing up. The Mother didn’t make us perfect. All a bear can do after busting something is to try to make amends, much as he can. Even if you can’t fix the damage”—like broken hearts—“you move on, living best as possible.”

She dropped her gaze, staring at where his big hand engulfed hers.

The gigantic bear
had gigantic hands. His fingers were callused to the roughness of tree bark yet, despite their strength, held hers gently. The muscles on his forearms were thick, even his wrist bones were huge. He made her feel…little.

Cared for.

He’d stopped talking, letting her turn his words over the way she’d turn over logs to see what rewards were beneath. Was he right?

He said everyone screwed up.
Truth.

Bears blundered. Everyone knew that. And she hadn’t deliberately hurt anyone. She’d never had the heart to be cruel.
Truth
.

“I don’t think the Mother approves of shifters throwing away her gift of life.”
She flinched internally at his accuracy. She wouldn’t deliberately harm herself, but trying to survive when each movement still hurt and her bones weren’t melded together would achieve nearly the same thing.

She hadn’t been thinking, just reacting.

With each
trawsfur
, the Mother’s love would fill her, letting her know she was cherished. To be careless with this gift of life would be wrong. Hurtful to the Goddess.
I’m sorry, Mother of All.

Ben said to make amends. If only she could. Gladly, she would have made apologies and stayed, and tried to be daughter to the grieving families, but the Cosantir had banished her. To return now would…would accomplish nothing except resurrect the pain of the bereaved.

Perhaps, she could give of herself here, instead?

As for the rest of Ben’s advice:
…you move on, living best as possible.
What if people found out what she’d done? “They won’t want me here,” she whispered to herself. “I…”

A snort reminded her someone else was in the room—a pissed-off bear. She looked up.

At the campground, he’d calmly shifted to a grizzly—the most terrifying of animals. Now, in the same way, his easygoing expression had transformed to unyielding strength.

“You gonna let others dictate what you do with your life?” His Texas drawl had thickened with his annoyance.

“I—”

“Are these others your mates? Your Cosantir?”

He obviously thought she’d meant someone specific, not an entire town. But she shook her head.

“A bear doesn’t answer to anyone else. We’re not wolves who need someone handing us orders.” He paused before prompting, “Yeah?”

He had no understanding of the reaction of his clan, and yet… Again, he had a point. She was being a coward, running rather than sticking it out. Could she manage to show this territory she had something to offer?

“You’re stuck here for a while, li’l bear. Don’t worry about the bedroom situation. We got it covered,” Ben said. “But while you’re here, you can work this—whatever it is—out and move past it.” He aimed an uncompromising look at her.

As she nodded, a different kind of guilt washed over her. She’d caused trouble, had hit him, had taken his time. What a sad repayment of his generosity. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she said softly. “I won’t try to run again, at least not until I can do it on four legs.”

His face softened. “That’s a good bear.”

A good bear
. The same words master bard had used.

When she smiled at the memory, the look in Ben’s eyes changed to…to something she didn’t quite recognize. And then she did. It was a male’s lazy appreciation of a female.

He ran his knuckles down her cheek.

With his controlled caress and his heated gaze, she was suddenly far too aware of her unclothed state. Of the way the sheet curved over her breasts. Of his strength when he had yanked her back onto the bed despite her pounding fists. Of the warmth of his fingers on her face and the stern line of his jaw.

His head tilted, and in a very deliberate move, he pressed a kiss to her wrist. His firm lips were warm.

She shivered.

A crease appeared in his cheek with his slow smile. “Since the healer said you can escape this room tomorrow, I’ll fetch you for breakfast in the morning.

As he left the room, she sniffed her wrist, knowing what he must have scented—the fragrance of a female’s interest.

Oh, this was bad. Very bad.

*

Downstairs in the
great room, Ryder sat on the upholstered chair and dug through Minette’s bag. “Here, kitten. Do you want to play with these?” He scattered several blocks in front of her.

Ben would come down soon. That would be the time to raise the possibility the guest was healthier than she was letting on.

Of course, he could be wrong.

But, by the God, if all she wanted was Ben’s status and money, she’d better rethink. Ryder knew too well the pain of being used, and he wouldn’t let Ben be hurt.

On the dark red area rug, Minette set her favorite stuffed cat to one side and picked up the sanded chunks of wood…with one hand. Her thumb was in her mouth.