Chapter 13 Operation Sugar Cookie
operation sugar cookie
RAVIK
The good news was that Bell didn’t scream and run away, like Koda told us her oldest daughter Holly had when confronted with his bear.
But bad news—the prospect of becoming our mate appeared to upset her more than finding out that we, and all six of her daughters' future husbands, were bear shifters.
The decision to mate her had been instant among the three of us. One whiff, and we all knew Ursa had sent us a second chance to be a maul. Even Zion was on board. At least physically.
The complete lack of sexual arousal since Niska died wasn’t something we ever talked about, but through our maul bond, I felt what had been dead in Zion suddenly pulse back to life. Arousal slammed into him, hard and urgent—seconds before the same hunger woke in me.
As soon as I saw her crying in the moonlight.
Mine. That had been my first thought, right before my nose caught her sugar cookie scent, and then my bear roared: OURS!
A claiming need like none I’d ever known outside of that first estrus with Niska shuddered through me. In an instant, I understood how my first maul son, Mak, must have felt when he walked into his cave to find his mate already bond bitten by Cody, his third maul.
I’m the first maul!
I wanted to rip her out of Walker’s arms. Claim her against his classic candy-apple red Ford F-150. Uncaring who saw as long as I could sink my maw into her neck. Mark her so that everyone could see that this female also belonged to me.
Luckily, Zion intervened before I could take my first step toward that goal.
“Don’t touch her yet,” he warned inside my mind. “I commiserate with all of your feelings in this moment, Ravik, but understand she is severely traumatized and you will only exacerbate that trauma if you follow through on any of those graphic images flashing through your head.”
Then Zion showed me what Walker had shown him: the first image he had of Bell handcuffed and beaten badly, her reaction when he tried to kiss her, and her fragile state over the days she spent healing—and now.
After he flashed those images through my head, the need to claim her was replaced with the urge to ask Ash’s shaman mother about a resurrection spell so I could do terrible things to the spirit of the male who had hurt her.
It was never going to happen again. No one would ever hurt her. Not on my watch. I wanted so badly to tell Bell that.
But I refused to scare her. Last night, after we got her back to Zion’s and my old Outer Limits house, I made myself stay in the background, at least a meter or two away, so I wouldn’t be tempted.
And this morning, I stood by silently while Zion shifted his head back to human and did his best to explain how we’d all scent-matched with her on first sniff
Unfortunately, telling her about our incoming mate bond didn’t go so well.
“What do you mean, all three of you imprinted on me?” Her entire face scrunched up after Zion finished talking. “You just met me! And this Ravik guy and I have barely exchanged ten words.”
This Ravik guy. The label burned like a lump of coal in my chest.
Zion was our words guy. That had been established as soon as Niska’s bear brought him into our maul. Truth be told, I’d been relieved to let him handle the talking while I concentrated on protecting our maul and our town as its then sole RCMP.
But for the first time, I wished I was better at words. I didn’t want to be “this Ravik guy” to her. I wanted her to be as comfortable with me as she already was with Walker and was starting to get with Zion.
“Patience,” Zion advised over our maul bond.
Out loud, he explained to Bell, “I know it’s hard to understand.
Even for me, as I’m a made bear, not born, like Ravik and Walker.
Until yesterday, I don’t believe I fully grasped what came over our late wife when she caught me alone while trail hiking and bond bit me, instantly turning me into a bear like her and Ravik—”
Bell held up her hand, brown eyes blazing. “Wait. She just bit you and turned you into a bear? Without asking you first?”
I felt an unexpected surge of pride that she was already taking offense on behalf of her soon-to-be second maul mate.
Bell might not be a bear, but somewhere inside, she sensed what we sensed.
To my surprise, Zion defended Niska.
“She bit me while in bear form during an emotional episode—she’d just learned her older sister had died rather suddenly and tragically.
Then she caught my scent, and again, it’s hard to explain, but our scents were profoundly compatible.
That’s how her bear knew I’d be a good match, even though we’d only exchanged a few words when I’d asked her for directions earlier. ”
Through the maul bond, I saw his memories unfold.
The pretty Indigenous woman answering his questions about where best to grab a short hike without violating the Ayaska’s no-trespass rules.
The black bear, charging out of the woods straight at him while he was on his solo hike.
Everything going dark until he woke in the cave den Niska’s bear had dragged him to—to the sight of Niska and me in human form, frantically mating atop a hastily constructed nest. Pulling Niska to him after I was spent, compelled by something he didn’t understand to cover her with his body and take her just as frantically, even though he had a girlfriend waiting in Toronto.
“We can mostly control our bears,” Zion continued on to Bell, “but sometimes they take over when emotions are heightened—or when we encounter a compatible scent. A scent like yours.”
Understatement. Even now, Zion’s usually precise diction was slipping. His maw was fighting him to stop explaining and start biting.
Mine, too.
I’d never felt anything like this burn inside of me. Niska had been duty. A promise made between our parents before I was even old enough to remember not being engaged to her.
But this? My gums itched to bite this female. Make her mine. Protect her. Ensure no one ever hurt her again.
Meanwhile, Bell was looking at us like we’d lost our minds. “So you think I’m your mate because I smell good to you?”
“Not just good.” I found myself shifting my head back to fully human to correct her. “Amazing. Compatible. With all three of us. Like, if you put what we smelled like on a table together, we’d all want to eat.”
Through Zion, I sensed the many dirty thoughts the word “eat” had put into Walker’s head.
“To us, you smell like sugar cookies.” Zion’s voice audibly strained as he tried to push down the sudden erection Walker’s dirty images caused behind his chinos.
“Bears don’t just trust our noses—we depend on them to know when someone is compatible on a biological level.
It’s something you probably sense, too. An attraction to all three of us unlike anything you’ve felt before. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”
She looked back and forth at all three of us. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Stared at the ground.
Finally, she steepled her hands.
“Okay. This is a lot to process. Thank you, I guess?”
She nodded, as if she were announcing a decision.
“Thank you for bringing me here and explaining so I’d have time to figure out how not to freak out about both my daughters marrying three…
of your kind. I’m not one to judge. I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m a complete mess right now who needs to get it together. ”
“Bell, no, after everything you’ve been through, it’s understandable that—” Zion rushed to reassure her.
“But there’s one thing I know for sure.” Bell cut him off with another raised hand before he could finish. “This?”
She gestured at the two males and one bear standing in an arc before her. “Not going to happen. I’m not remotely in a place for something like this to happen. Ever. So I’m sorry if I’ve somehow set off your biological smell-equals-mate thing. But no. Just no.”
She met each of our eyes to make sure we understood.
Then, without another word, she rushed back into the house Zion, and I used to share.
All three of us flinched when the door slammed behind her.
Then Walker turned to us with a disappointed flash of his polar bear teeth.
“She make run always,” he told us in Bear, the language of our animals. “No stay. No fight. No like Niska.”
No, she wasn’t like Niska. My late wife would have kept insisting on doing things her way until she wore us down, like with Mara’s exile. Or done something rash.
I thought of the screaming match she got in with Zion after Erik bit her.
“You knew it wasn’t supposed to be him, but you went behind our backs. Now we’re in this terrible position because you always have to get your way, even for the one thing—the sole thing—that is supposed to be down to Ravik and me to decide!”
“It’s not my fault! I was just trying to encourage him to convince you two to pick him instead. It was only supposed to be one kiss. How was I supposed to know you were already exchanging maul bites with Walker? Or that Erik would bite me and send me into estrus?”
I’d known Erik was bad news, even if Niska hadn’t. My gut had told me he wasn’t the fun, laidback, good time he’d presented while we were vetting him.
Just like my gut had told me there was more to Bell’s story when Takoda came asking for advice.
I was done not trusting my gut.
And I was done being nice. For once, I wasn’t going to dutifully sit back and let Fate decide my future.
My eyes shifted to the front door she’d slammed behind her.
“We’ll let her hide, for now,” I snarled at Zion and Walker. “But tomorrow, Operation Sugar Cookie goes into full effect. We’re going to make her ours. Fully. Completely. Whether she’s ready for us or not.”
Both Zion and Walker visibly startled. Zion, probably because he’d never heard me snarl before. And Walker, because I’d never taken a stance on anything except duty and tradition.
Walker’s bear recovered first, finally shifting back to his human form to declare, “I’m with you, Vik.”
Right before he asked, “What’s Operation Sugar Cookie?”