Chapter 35 Their Beary Fresh Start #2
"For Ursa's sake, simply convey to her how you feel," I pushed into Ravik's mind at the same time Boone sent, "I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T FUCKING TELL OUR GIRL YOU LOVE HER BACK I’M GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN YOUR FUCKING THROAT
"I love you," Ravik whispered for reasons that had nothing to do with Boone’s threat and everything to do with his feelings for the small woman standing before him.
Then stronger, looking directly into her eyes: "I love you so much that it's hard to breathe when I look at you.
Because you're so smart and funny and sexy and talented, and I'm bad at this talking stuff.
Sometimes I feel like you—like I don't know if I deserve for you to love me back. But I do love you. For always."
He grasped at his chest.
"I love you so much, it hurts. But it's a good hurt, and I want to feel it for the rest of my life."
She let out a relieved breath and touched his chest where his hand still pressed, feeling his thundering heart beneath her palm.
"I love you too," she whispered. "So much."
Then the time for words was over. She kissed him back so fervently that it felt like a new sunrise in all of our hearts.
Bell had come here looking for a fresh start.
But she didn't know that she was our fresh start as well.
After exchanging those deep sentiments, we all went to our apparently not-so-temporary home in the Outer Limits and spent the rest of the day showing her how we truly felt.
And as if to bless our new beginning, that evening I woke in Bell’s nest to the sound of several text messages going off on my phone.
Most likely students’ parents upset about me not having shown up for the last dress rehearsal before tomorrow’s pageant performance.
There were certainly several texts about that. But the most recent one was not.
“What’s going on?” Bell asked, sitting up in bed beside me, when she saw the huge grin spread across my face.
“It’s from the mayor,” I answered. “He’s found a new teacher to replace me.”
“Oh my god, Zion, yay!” she cheered… before scrunching her cute nose.
“But half your personality is complaining about your students." She took my hand with a look of faux concern and matched my somewhat theatrical baritone. "Whatever will you do?”
I sucked my teeth, narrowing my eyes at her. “You believe yourself funny, do you?”
“Oh, I am hilarious,” she assured me.
“Move aside, Boone,” I boomed with extra-theatrical flourish to our third maul, curled up sideways at her feet. “I’m about to wipe the smile off our naughty imp’s face.”
Our third maul gamely rolled aside, and soon Bell was shrieking as I pulled her legs over my shoulders to bury my face in what Boone vulgarly but aptly called her “sweet sugar cookie pussy.”
Meanwhile, Boone kissed her while Ravik palmed her breasts.
And yes, we did wipe the smile off our mate’s face, but not from her heart.
After I made her come on my mouth, she returned the favor on her knees while Boone and Ravik claimed her from both sides.
Soon, Bell’s muffled screams around my cock as she shuddered through a climax were punctuated by three simultaneous offerings at all of her altars.
A beary fresh start, indeed.
At our big age, as Bell would put it, I had the feeling the rest of our lives would feel like a new beginning.
Oh my gosh. I’m so happy for the final maul in the
Welcome to Bear Mountain series.
But I know I’m not quite ready
to leave this magical place behind.
How about you?
If you want to see how the rest of their year unfolds and finally get Zion’s side of the Sadie/Mara reunion, I’ve got a couple of side stories waiting for you. Yay!
So Beary Much Love!
Your author,
Theodora Taylor
P.S. - If you haven’t already, make sure to read all the stories in Welcome to Bear Mountain series!
Her Beary Sexy Christmas
Her Beary Spicy Valentine
Her Beary Hot Summer
Her Beary Scary Halloween
Her Beary Fresh Start
Haven’t read Sadie’s story yet? See all the epic why choose things the shifters across the pond are up to across the pond in the IRISH SHIFTERS series!
IRISH SHIFTERS
Her Irish Wolves
Her Irish Bears
Her Irish Dragons
Meanwhile here’s a fun little excerpt from Her Irish Bears…
REJECTED BY ALL, UNTIL...
I’ve always been the outcast in my cloistered Canadian village.
So, after an especially humiliating rejection, I sign up for a Bridal Exchange trip to Scotland, a wolf kingdom desperate for she-wolf brides to reverse their zero birth population crisis.
But even the threat of extinction isn't enough to make any of the Scottish Wolves want a 6-foot-tall, plus-sized she-wolf with a quirky whittling hobby.
Just as I'm about to give up, all of the would-be brides are kidnapped by the Irish Wolves… who don't want me either. In fact, they drop me off with three huge males... who claim to be kings. My kings.
That’s when I learn I’m not the world’s most rejected she-wolf.
Because actually, I’m not a she-wolf at all.
Too big, too curvy, too other—that’s exactly what at least two of these Irish Kings are looking for. But one of them—the High King, who gets the final say—isn’t so sure.
The word ruin comes up. A bunch.
After a lifetime of rejection, can I put aside my insecurities and trust not one, not two, but three Irish Bear Kings with my heart?
When you wake up after a strange kidnapping in an even stranger place
The world was black, but swirling with voices. Mine, Naomi’s, Alban’s, and two strangers I didn’t know.…
“Naomi!”
“Sadie, run!”
Me in the Wolfennite language: “What is happening? Why are these mossy wolves attacking us?”
“I think they’re Irish,” Naomi answers. “They are once again here to kidnap all the unmated she-wolves.”
Me: “Oh, heavens!”
“No idea what the two of ye are saying, but if ye come with us nice and easy, no one will get hurt — aw, feckin’ hell. What’re ye doing here, Kingdom Defender?”
Naomi’s voice: “Alban!”
Echoes of Malcolm and Gavin proclaiming “Remember the Irish!” rings out over the conversation.
“Stay where ye are, Defender,” the scariest of the two wolves growls. His voice is so feral, he barely sounds human. “If ye make me cut our she-wolf, I’ll gut ye and feed yer entrails to the forest boar for their supper.”
Our she-wolf???
“So, you ken my title,” Alban answers the feral growler, his voice shockingly unafraid. “Then you also ken I can’t let you take any of these females out of here without a fight.”
The less scary Irish Wolf speaks up: “Kingdom Defender, this situation isn’t the same as in the 1500s.”
“So, you’re not looking to steal all our females? Again?”
“Not all of them, no. We will leave behind the mated ones this time. The ones we do take will be brought back to our kingdom to give our males their consideration for matehood. But in the spring, they will be given a choice about staying, and the ones who are not heat-mated and no longer wish to stay with us will be delivered back here to Faoiltiarn. Tell your king he has my vow on that.”
“Tell him yerself. After I deliver you to the dungeon cells underneath the castle.”
“There are two of us. And one of you. We can do this the easy way, where you step aside and let us leave. Or… we can do this the hard way and risk the life of the precious first baby born to the Faoiltiarn royal family in over thirty years.”
“Either way, she is ours! We will not be leaving Dùn Faoiltiarn without her.”
The sound of the scariest of the two wolves sticking his tongue out and licking Naomi’s neck. Actually licking her!
Me, screaming in English: “Leave her alone!”
Naomi calling out: “Stop! I agree to go with them. Just take the baby. Take the baby so she doesn’t get hurt.”
Alban: “I cannae let you make that sacrifice, Naomi.”
Naomi insisting: “It’s not up to you. I made sure the rule was included when we put together the New St. Ailbe Ordnung. She-wolves can come and go as they like—without restraint or repercussion.”
Me, without even having to think about it: “I volunteer to go, too!”
Naomi: “No, Sadie, you can’t!”
“Actually... going with us isn’t a choice. You’re both coming with us for this special opportunity, either way.”
With that statement, the formerly least scary Irish Wolf moves into first place.
Me, swallowing but trying… trying to be brave: “See, Nay, it’s already all decided. I’m going with you.”
“Okay, then, we’ll be on our way,” says the feral growly one. “If you’ll put down the pokey stick and step aside, Defender.”
Back and forth the voices of Naomi and Alban go until finally he concedes with an… “Aye, give her to me, then.”
The new first-place scariest wolf: “Alright, enough of this drama... We’ve a mission to carry out.”
The Feral Growl wolf: “Ye’re going to need both our jabbers for sure to know The Potential is out. Here, take mine. I’ve got some other stuff to give to our banreen.”
Banreen—not banrigh, the word in Scottish Gaelic for queen, but close. Are these random Irish Wolves referring to Naomi as their queen? What will happen to her? To us?
Fear, like nothing I’ve ever known, consumes me as I’m stabbed with not one, but two needles at the same time. I whimper in the black.
Naomi’s voice: “It’ll be alright. Everything will be alright... No matter what happens, we’ll be all right, and I’ll figure out how to get us out of this—mmfph!”
Black.
Black.
More black.
Then, suddenly, I heaved awake with a huge inhalation… to find myself inside a glass coffin surrounded by white.
I was dead!
But I wasn’t!
I was alive!
But in some kind of heaven, enclosed in a glass box.
“Help me! Help me! Help me!”
Someone was screaming the words in my ear with a heavy THWUMP! THWUMP! THWUMP! in the background.
It was me. My screams for help hit the glass walls and echoed right back at me inside the box. And the thwumping sound was coming from my palms. Slamming against the coffin lid… to no avail.
Everyone in the new St. Ailbe village thought I was so strong. But the lid didn’t budge—not even a tiny bit.