8. Reese
S ydney thinks I don’t socialize enough, so we’re having a “game night”.
Whatever the fuck that is. We’re grizzly bear shifters, we don’t do “game night”.
I scoff to myself as I grab glasses from the kitchen, slamming the cabinet door a little too hard. The hinges rattle under the abuse.
After our kiss the other day, I’ve managed to keep my hands off Sydney for four whole days. She’s done everything in her power to tempt me, prancing around in her barely there shorts. The little menace walked in on me showering again this morning, innocently claiming she needed some cotton swabs.
I’m starting to think she’s doing it on purpose. The long glances and soft touches anytime she manages to get close. I’ve spent as much time working in the woods as possible, to the point where I’m basically a stranger in my own home.
When she stumbled into my workshop a few days ago, wearing practically nothing, I couldn’t say no to my mate. The memory of her small tits bouncing in the nearly see-through tank top has been on repeat in my mind every time I jerk off.
And that kiss.
Fuck me . Her lips were so soft and sweet, like spun sugar. She was so pliant in my arms, molding to my every whim. Her touch set me alight with desire.
Then my brain caught up, and I remembered all the reasons I can’t have her. She’s too young. She’s too innocent. She’s Wren’s sister. She’s only here for a few more weeks.
It’s Friday night, and Sydney had suggested inviting Wren, Kiernan, and Tyler over for the evening, since I needed more fun in my boring life.
Her words, not mine.
We invited Will and Benny, even though they aren’t old enough to drink, but they declined. Still not used to being around people as new shifters. They’re more at home with each other or out in the woods. Can’t say I blame them right now.
My skin crawls at the thought of socializing, but I’m doing this to make Sydney happy. And these men are my brothers. This is my chosen family. They deserve the best of me, something I’ve been too broken to really give them.
Just because I can’t claim Sydney doesn’t mean I won’t do everything else in my power to make her happy. So, tonight, I’ll let my walls crumble a bit and enjoy the company of my pack.
Stacking the glasses in one hand, I grab the bottle of whiskey in the other, mentally preparing myself to play bartender for my pack mates.
Everyone is settled in the living room after gorging themselves on Sydney’s homemade pizza. Damn, the woman can cook .
Sydney’s laughter floats through the air as I enter the room. Seated on the brown leather sofa, Tyler leans close, whispering something in her ear. A low growl crawls up my throat at his close proximity to my mate.
Not yours.
Tyler looks up, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face when his emerald eyes lock on me. The fucker winks, then raises a single brow. “Party’s here!” he announces as I set the glasses and whiskey on the coffee table.
Flopping into my favorite oversized chair, I survey the room. Wren and Kiernan are snuggled together on the chair across from me. His massive body fills the space, while she curls up in his lap, stroking the back of his neck.
A quiet purr rumbles from his chest.
Jealousy courses through me at how easily their mating happened. They fell hard and fast, barely coming up for air in the past six months.
A small fire roars in the fireplace, more for ambiance than actual heat since it’s summertime.
“Wait, can you guys even get drunk?” Sydney’s sweet voice stops my thoughts from spiraling.
She uncorks the whiskey bottle with a pop , pouring two fingers into a glass and passing it to Kiernan. Taking a sip, he hums, eyes closing. The man knows his way around whiskey, that’s for sure.
“It takes a lot to get us drunk. We run so hot our metabolism burns through things faster,” Kiernan explains. “Same reason we need to eat so much.”
Nodding, Sydney takes a sip of her own whiskey, coughing slightly after she swallows.
“Shit,” she rasps. Her rough voice shoots straight to my cock. Discreetly adjusting myself, I sit forward and pick up my own glass. Taking a healthy gulp of the amber liquid, it burns down my throat, until warmth settles low in my stomach.
“What about caffeine?” She continues to pepper Kiernan with questions. “Because I could not survive without my coffee.”
Wren chuckles. “Yeah, but your coffee consumption is not normal, Syd.”
In response, Sydney sticks her tongue out at her sister. I find one corner of my mouth rising into a smile.
Shaking his head, Kiernan wraps an arm around Wren, resting his glass on her hip.
“Nope, caffeine doesn’t do anything.”
“Kier’s a coffee addict,” I chime in, every head in the room swiveling toward me. “Drinks it for the flavor. Right?”
Chuckle filling the air, Kiernan nods.
“Enough chit-chat. I thought this was a game night.” Tyler claps his hands, rubbing the palms together in a show of anticipation. Deep green eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Oh!” Wren squeals. Hopping off Kiernan’s lap, she trots to the front door. Returning with a large tote bag, she kneels on the floor next to the coffee table. “I had Addie bring me some classic board games yesterday when she stopped by.”
At the mention of Addie, my eyes flick to Tyler. A slight flush rises on his cheeks, the rose tattooed on his throat bobbing with a swallow. He claims they’re ’just friends’, but I’d bet my fortune on those two being fated mates.
“Monopoly?” Wren holds up the box, giving it a shake, pieces rattling inside.
“Boo!”
“Hiss!”
A smile pulls at my lips, eyes roaming between my pack mates, maybe even friends.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Wren says, rummaging in the tote for another option. “Oh! Clue!” She holds the box up, grinning ear to ear.
“I call Colonel Mustard!” Tyler bellows, pumping a fist in the air.
Kiernan plops down next to him, opening the box and grabbing up the yellow game piece. “Yoink!”
“Hey! Did you not hear me claim Colonel Mustard?” Tyler’s fist connects with Kiernan’s shoulder, sending him sprawling backward on the couch, cackling as he clutches the sacred game token to his chest.
“Idiots,” I mutter as I stand from my chair and cross to the coffee table. Hands braced on my hips, I glare down my nose at the two as they wrestle on the couch like petulant children. “Enough!” The alpha bark comes out of me like second nature, and they immediately freeze. “Are you five?” I ask, giving Kiernan a pointed look. “Give him the fucking game piece.”
Reluctantly, he opens his fist, the yellow pawn falling into Tyler’s outstretched palm.
“Alright, let’s play!” Wren cheers, scattering the murder weapons onto the board .
Crisis averted, everyone slips to the floor, settling around the coffee table for a long night of Clue.
“ M rs. White in the library, with the candlestick!” Sydney shrieks, bouncing on her knees.
Three hours and four rounds of Clue later, and the girls are tipsy. They’re snuggled up next to each other on the floor, peering at their cards, conspiring against the rest of us and giggling every few words.
Warmth spreads across my heart at getting a glimpse into their sisterly bond. They’re obviously close, but they act more like best friends, rather than sisters. Wren told me once her mother called them two peas in a pod.
I can imagine a young, rambunctious Syd getting into trouble, dragging a reluctant Wren along for the ride. A small smile spreads across my face.
Syd locks eyes with me from across the coffee table. Flames from the fireplace dance in her light-blue irises, making them glow. A beautiful pink flush darkens the apples of her cheeks and the normally pale skin of her chest. With a long blink, her plump lips tip up in a sleepy smile.
Damn, she’s beautiful. My angel.
Wren lets out a noise, a cross between a yawn and a hiccup, breaking our moment as she launches into uncontrollable laughter .
“Alright, Lilac, I think you’ve had enough,” Kiernan declares, getting to his feet. “Time for bed.” He pulls Wren to stand next to him.
“Do we have to?” Jutting out her lower lip, she stares up at him with wide eyes.
Running his thumb over her protruding lip, Kiernan looks down at his mate with love burning in his dark eyes. “Yes.”
Black tendrils of envy curl around my heart again at the way he looks at her. I fucking want that.
“Piggyback ride!” Wren shrieks, catapulting herself onto her mate’s wide back. Of course, he catches her like she weighs next to nothing.
“We’ll see you guys later. I’ll swing by tomorrow for the games,” he calls over his shoulder, slipping on his shoes. Tipping down, he grabs Wren’s sandals, totally oblivious to the fact she’s latched onto his back like a spider monkey. More giggles float through the living room, cut off by the closing of the front door.
“Guess that’s my cue.” My head swivels in Tyler’s direction as he gets to his feet, heading toward the door. Following suit, I stand with a groan. A dull ache throbs in my back from sitting on the rug covered hardwood for hours.
By the time I get to the door, Tyler has his shoes on. Turning to look at me, he murmurs, “Don’t fuck it up, Reese.” Voice low enough so hopefully Sydney can’t hear. His green eyes bore into mine knowingly, then he glances over my shoulder. Following his line of sight, Sydney’s platinum hair catches my eye from where she’s curled up in the corner of the couch.
Nodding once, I all but push him out the front door. “Goodnight, Tyler. ”
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with my half-drunk, sleepy mate.
Sydney sits on the couch, chewing her bottom lip. Her eyes follow her finger as it glides around the rim of her whiskey glass.
A slight flush still covers her chest and cheeks, amplified by the flames flickering in the fireplace. Her lids droop to half-mast as her body sinks into the leather of the couch. My girl is drunk.
Not your girl.
After throwing another log on the fire, I settle on the far end of the couch, leaving plenty of room between us. The fire roars, providing the perfect amount of heat on a cool summer evening. The temperatures drop into the fifties at night, even in early June.
The leather squelches as I adjust, drawing Sydney’s eyes to me, her gaze hazy with alcohol.
“How much did you drink, sweetheart?”
She hums. “Too much.” A giggle slips past her plush lips; the bottom one slightly red from being chewed on. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I sigh.
“Why do you hate me?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. My stomach drops like a ton of bricks at her question. Sadness swimming in those big blue eyes, making them appear even bluer.
“Shit,” I mutter, scrubbing a hand over my mouth, the hairs of my beard rasping against my palm. “Sydney. Look, I don’t hate you. Things are… complicated right now.”
“Well, uncomplicate them, Reese,” she seethes. Feisty .
“I don’t hate you,” I reiterate, turning toward her, pulling one knee up onto the couch. Blowing out a breath, I push the words out. “I just don’t do well when my routine is disrupted.”
“And I disrupted your routine?”
Shrugging, my eyes settle on my glass, my hand moving slowly to swirl the liquid. I’ve probably had too much to drink tonight, too. I’ve lost count of how many glasses of whiskey Tyler poured for me.
Fuck it.
I take another swig, draining the contents of the glass.
“Yeah, you do, Syd. You came into town, bringing up my past. A past I’ve worked hard to leave behind.” The words come out rougher than I anticipated.
Across from me, Sydney sniffles. Wiping her eyes, she whispers, “I’m sorry, Reese. That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know.”
“But what’s so bad in your past that you need to keep it hidden? You’re brilliant. One of the youngest billionaires of your generation. Why are you hiding out here in the woods?”
Her question throws me off balance. I’ve spent almost the last decade running from my past. Maybe it’s time to tell someone the truth. Maybe Sydney, my mate, can take away some of the pain.
Running my hand through my hair, my fingers slip through the silky black strands. I tug the ends, trying to figure out where to start.
“It’s a long story, Angel.”
“I have time, Reese.” Her soft voice soothes me, the ache in my chest shrinking with each word she speaks .
“I don’t know how much you know about my past. I grew up in a rough neighborhood on the south side of Chicago. Raised by my grandma, my dad’s mom.”
“What happened to your parents?” Her melodic voice is closer now, breaking through my cluttered thoughts. Glancing up, Sydney is kneeling on the middle cushion of the couch, not touching me.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say, shaking my head to banish any thoughts of my parents. “All you need to know is they were dead-beats, and I defied the odds, thanks to my grandma. She kept me out of trouble and I worked hard to make it out of my neighborhood. I founded TekNet when I was in my early twenties. I thought I was king shit, had more money than I knew what to do with, and no guidance. Somehow, I managed to party every night and still show up to board meetings the next day.”
“I remember seeing you on tabloid covers when I was a blossoming pre-teen.” She laughs softly. “Reese Moore leaves a trail of broken hearts along Michigan Ave.” She drops her voice low and swipes a hand through the air as if the headline is floating in front of her.
I sigh. At that point in my life, I think I slept with every woman who threw herself at me. “I regret a lot from that time in my life. The people around me only cared about my money and my fame. They didn’t care about the real me. I drowned my loneliness in work, booze, and women. It all came crashing down when I was twenty-five. ”
My eyes focus on my lap, one hand swirling my whiskey glass, the other curled into a tight fist. “I shifted for the first time the day after my twenty-fifth birthday.”
“Did you have any family to help you through the process? Was your dad a shifter?”
I slowly raise my head to meet her gaze, the fire reflects in her eyes. Her pale skin illuminated in the low flickering light. She’s perfect. I don’t even deserve to be in the presence of this fallen angel.
“No. The gene comes from someone on my mom’s side. She was the carrier, but I’ve never met any of her relatives.”
She shifts her weight, like she wants to touch me, but changes her mind at the last moment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. I can’t even imagine how scary it must have been.”
“When I first shifted, I freaked the fuck out, like my body wasn’t my own anymore. This foreign beast was constantly pacing under my skin. I scoured the dark web for any information and was able to find a few forums that helped ease the transition. Anyway, I kept being a shifter hidden for a while by working from my penthouse or going to the office late at night—after everyone had left for the day. Needless to say, my playboy lifestyle stopped. I couldn’t drink anymore because the excessive alcohol would lower my inhibitions and my bear would take over. I needed to be in control of my mind at all times. It took a few months, but I got a handle on shifting and thought I had everything under control.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, scooting closer to me. Her bare knees brush against my leg. I suppress a growl when electricity zaps the point of contact, even through the denim of my jeans. Mentally, my bear pants at her proximity.
He craves her touch almost as much as I do.
“I had a business partner, Joel. We met in college and he helped me develop and launch TekNet. I was the CEO, and he was my VP. He kept pestering me about being gone all the time or keeping weird work hours. I knew if I wanted to keep my company, I had to show my face again. My shifts were less frequent and more under control, so I attended a board meeting in person. But it went horribly wrong. It was the worst day of my life.”
Bile builds in my throat, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. She’s gonna hate me after this. She’ll see the violent beast lurking inside me and want nothing to do with me. I’ll have chased my mate away, disgusted by my past.
Maybe her leaving wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. My bear bellows in my mind, my heart clenching at the thought of her leaving. Unfurling my clammy fist, I run the shaking hand down my thigh.
“I knew something was wrong that morning. My bear had been growling and snarling in my head more than usual. I hadn’t had a chance to shift in a few weeks, and I was stressed at the thought of being around other people. During the board meeting, things became heated between me and one of my advisors. He wanted me to step down as CEO, claiming the employees couldn’t trust me anymore. I still remember how my body shook with anger, and I couldn’t hold my bear inside anymore. He broke free, forcing a shift. ”
Sydney gasps, a small hand landing on my bent knee. Her touch gives me the courage to keep going.
“Chaos broke out—people screaming, running from the conference room. All I could do was look on through my bear’s eyes. I couldn’t push him back into my mind, no matter how hard I tried. Joel jumped into action, trying to get everyone out of the room before my bear attacked.”
“Reese,” Sydney whispers, hand squeezing my knee.
Shaking my head, I continue, “Let me get this out. Please…”
She nods, moisture gathering in her eyes.
“My bear freaked out. I think he was only trying to get out of the conference room, out of the city, probably. He swiped at Joel, slashing him in the back. I don’t remember much after that. I think I passed out and shifted back. Next thing I remember is the police showing up and Joel being taken away in an ambulance.”
“W-was he okay?” She stumbles over her words.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I’ve tried for ten years to block this memory out, but I can’t. It haunts me every day. It’s why I avoid people. Why I push them away. If I don’t let anyone in, I can’t hurt them.
“Yeah—” my voice breaks “—thankfully. My bear’s claws didn’t go deep enough to injure his spine. But he had a long road to recovery and permanent scarring on his back.” I sniff, blinking away the tears. “Joel had always been like a brother to me. My only real friend when we made it big in the business world and I’d almost killed him.”
“What happened? Did he forgive you? ”
A dry chuckle rumbles from my lips. “Hell no. Joel and the rest of the board—hell, the whole-fucking-city—were terrified. People threatened to quit unless I was removed from my position as CEO. The board offered me a substantial buyout. I took the money and ran. In exchange, the company agreed to stay quiet about me being a shifter and bury the truth. Luckily, no criminal charges were filed. The board swept everything under the rug: forcing employees to sign NDAs and hiring press to write articles about me becoming a recluse after ’personal trauma’.”
“Reese, I’m so sorry. Those people shouldn’t have turned their backs on you. What happened was an accident. A tragic accident.” Her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, her voice wobbles as she tries to speak with conviction.
“Angel, most of the population were and still are afraid of shifters. They fear what they don’t know, what they don’t understand, especially in a big city like Chicago. I’ve come to terms with the way they forced me out and I’ve moved on with my life the best I can. After I left the city, I lived on my own in the wilderness for a few years, backpacking, hunting and fishing to survive. My bear loved the freedom and our bond grew stronger. It’s probably why I have such good control over my shifting now.”
“So, how did you end up in Minnesota?”
“A nomad shifter friend told me about private land in the Cypress Valley National Park being for sale, an abandoned Boy Scout camp. I snatched it up, knowing it would be the perfect place to hide from the world. The place was run-down, so I hired a contractor from Oak Ridge to renovate the cabins and add the two cabins up the mountain. This one and Kiernan’s. And you know the rest.”
“Yeah, you’ve become a sanctuary for lost and homeless shifters,” she murmurs, a small smile on her face.
“So, I understand if you want to leave now. I’ve hurt someone in the past. I’ll end up hurting you, too. I lost everything because I’m a damn shifter,” I whisper. A gentle hand clasps around mine. “I didn’t choose to be like this. The last ten years have made me bitter and broken. Even with all the money I have, I don’t know how to fix myself.”
The confession pours out of me. I turn my hand, lining our palms up, lacing our fingers together, holding onto my mate for dear life.
“Reese, look at me.” Her voice is small, but her words are demanding. My eyes trail from our joined hands to her face. Bouncing from one eye to the other, I search her gaze, looking for any hint of fear. But all I see in those blazing blue eyes is pride and love.
“Listen to me, and listen good, Reese Moore. I’m not going anywhere, you grump. What happened to Joel was an accident . You need to stop blaming yourself for it and move on. And look at what you’ve gained from being a shifter. You’ve given four men, and my sister, a home and a purpose. You’ve taken your fortune and built something amazing. You should be proud of yourself, but until you figure that out, I’ll be proud of you.”
Her words shock me. I thought she’d take one look at me after hearing my story and run back to Wren or her home in the city. But, like the firecracker she is, she’s blown my expectations to smithereens.
“I know it was hard for you to open up to me. But thank you, Reese. It means a lot that you trusted me with your past.”
“I’m glad I told you, too,” I whisper as Sydney snuggles into my side. She yawns, stretching like a sunbathing cat. I close my eyes, soaking up the heat of her body next to mine. She nuzzles her face into my chest, dragging in a deep breath.
“Mmm, you smell good,” she whispers, almost too soft to hear.
I laugh, causing her to giggle.
“Thank you for tonight. I think I really needed that time with my pack,” I admit.
“You’re welcome. I’m always here for you.” She yawns again, slipping her petite leg between mine, cuddling closer.
I’m not sure when, or how, it happens, but Sydney’s small, warm body is sprawled on top of me as I settle back against the brown leather. Slow, rhythmic breathing and the occasional snore alert me to the fact she’s out cold. I hope she’s not hurting too bad in the morning with a hangover.
As much as I fight it, her presence calms me and my bear. In my mind, he’s laying on his side, snoring softly in sync with our mate.
Running my hand through her hair, I pull the strands of white-gold to my nose, inhaling deeply. Gardenias . They’ve always been my favorite. I’ve even carved them into the bedframe in her room, like my subconscious knew all along.
Continuing to stroke the soft strands, I close my eyes, relishing in the weight of my mate’s body snuggled close and the gentle crackling of the last remnants of the fire. Here, in the darkness of the dead of night, I can pretend she’s really mine, even if just for a fleeting moment.