Chapter 7
Hannah
Afew minutes later, we’re in Torin’s truck heading down the mountain, and I’m still thinking about his brother’s human mate.
“Did Alexandria want to be mated to him?”
Torin glances over. “Of course.”
“From the beginning?”
“Hell, no.” A smile tugs at his mouth. “She was scared shitless of him.”
“That sounds more familiar.”
His smile fades.
I look out the window. “So, what changed?”
“She got to know him.”
“And decided she wanted to marry a bear.”
“Mate a bear.”
“Whatever.”
“Not quite whatever.”
I glance over.
Torin keeps his eyes on the road. “Gunnar and Alexandria are true mates.”
“What does that mean?”
He looks at me briefly. “You don’t know?”
“Apparently not.”
“A true mate isn’t somebody your family picks out for you. It’s one person. Your mate. You don’t choose who it is.”
I stare at him. “So Gunnar already knew Alexandria was his mate before she agreed to anything?”
“The second he met her.”
“How?”
“Her scent.”
I think about that. Then I think about Cade. “Cade kept smelling me.”
Torin’s expression changes.
“He said he liked my scent. Actually, everyone seemed weirdly interested in it.” I watch him for a moment. “Does that mean he thought I was his true mate?”
“No.”
The answer comes so quickly that I blink. “You seem pretty certain.”
“I am.”
“How?”
“Because he wasn’t acting like a male who’d found his mate.”
I turn toward him. “How does a male act?”
Torin is quiet for a moment. “Depends on the male.”
“Helpful.”
He smiles. “Gunnar nearly lost his mind.”
“Over Alexandria?”
“Yeah. Couldn’t stay away from her. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wanted to know where she was, whether she was safe, whether she’d eaten—”
“That sounds slightly unhinged.”
“It was.”
I laugh.
“And Alexandria?”
“It took her longer. Humans don’t recognize the bond the way we do.”
“So, she felt nothing?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I wait, but Torin doesn’t elaborate.
“What did she feel?”
“You’d have to ask her.”
“You’re being very mysterious all of a sudden.”
He shrugs, and I look back through the windshield.
“So, Cade just liked my scent.”
“Looks that way.”
“Gross.”
Torin laughs.
For a while, we drive with the windows down, warm air rushing through the cab.
I’m still thinking about Gunnar and Alexandria. Mostly Alexandria. Somewhere on this mountain is another human woman who somehow went from being terrified of a bear shifter to choosing a life with one.
I definitely have questions for her.
Torin glances over. “You’ve got your thinking face on.”
“I have a thinking face?”
“That little line between your eyebrows.”
I rub at it automatically, making him smile.
“So, what do you do when you’re not investigating corrupt sheriffs?”
I think about that. “Lately? Apparently nothing.”
“Before all this.”
“I used to go to the movies a lot.”
“What kind?”
“Thrillers. Horror sometimes. Terrible disaster movies.”
“Terrible specifically?”
“The worse, the better. Earthquakes, volcanoes, tidal waves. Ideally several major cities get destroyed.”
“That’s pretty dark.”
“They’re comforting.”
Torin looks over at me. “Millions of imaginary people dying comforts you?”
“You know they’re going to survive.”
“Millions of them definitely don’t.”
“The important ones survive.”
He laughs, and I do too.
Torin is still smiling when the trees thin ahead of us.
“We’re close,” he says.
“To the lake?”
“The lodge first. Unless you were planning to swim naked.”
I turn to look at him. His eyes stay innocently on the road.
“Nice try.”
“Wasn’t trying anything.”
I snort.
A few minutes later, the trees open onto a broad clearing cut into the mountainside.
“Whoa.”
The lodge sits at the far end, backed by pines. It’s huge—two stories of timber and stone, with a long porch across the front and windows reflecting the afternoon sun. A couple of trucks are parked off to one side, and there’s a stack of split firewood that looks big enough to heat a small village.
I’m not sure what I expected from a bear clan’s home, but it wasn’t this.
Torin glances at me as he turns into the clearing. “What?”
“I thought it would be more…”
“More what?”
I search for the word. “Bear-y.”
He laughs. “Bear-y.”
“You know, skins displayed on the walls. Giant furniture. Maybe somebody gnawing on a deer leg.”
“Orson knows he’s supposed to use a plate when we have company.”
I look at him.
Torin grins and pulls up beside the other trucks.
I’m pretty sure he’s joking.
He kills the engine and climbs out.
I follow, taking another look at the lodge as we cross the clearing. Up close, it feels even less like the headquarters of a bear clan. There are muddy boots lined up beside the porch, a faded outdoor cushion on one of the chairs and a watering can abandoned beside a pot of flowers.
Torin opens the front door and stands aside for me.
Inside, the lodge is cool and dim after the sun. A huge stone fireplace takes up most of one wall, with deep couches arranged around it and a long wooden table beyond. The kitchen at the back is big enough to feed a crowd.
It looks like a home.
A slightly oversized home, admittedly.
Torin heads toward the back of the lodge. “Alexandria’s stuff is this way. She and Gunnar are away for a few days.”
“Where?”
“Honeymoon.”
I glance at him. “They got married too?”
“Yeah. Alexandria wanted a wedding.”
“And Gunnar?”
“Gunnar wanted Alexandria.”
There’s something very simple about the way he says it.
He leads me down the hall and stops at a door near the end.
“This is their room.” He pushes open the door and immediately stops. “Just occurred to me I’ve never been in here when they weren’t here.”
“You’re allowed, right?”
“Alexandria won’t care.” He thinks about it. “Gunnar might.”
“Excellent.”
He goes in anyway.
The room is large but cozy, with a huge bed beneath the windows and clothes scattered over an armchair. On the dresser is a photograph of Gunnar and Alexandria standing beside a lake, his arm around her waist.
I drift closer.
Gunnar is enormous, even bigger than Torin, with a thick dark beard and an expression that suggests smiling for photographs isn’t high on his list of interests. Alexandria is tucked against his side, grinning at the camera.
Gunnar isn’t looking at the camera at all. He’s looking at her.
Something about that makes me smile.
“Think I found them,” Torin says behind me.
I turn.
He’s opened a drawer and is staring down into it.
“Wrong drawer?”
“Yep.”
I walk over and glance inside.
Lace. Lots of it.
I laugh. “Oh dear.”
“That’s my brother’s mate’s underwear.”
“I’m aware.”
He shuts the drawer and opens the one beneath it.
“Swimsuits.”
There are several bikinis and a couple of one-pieces folded inside. Gingerly, I pick up a dark green bikini and hold it against myself. “This should work.”
A floorboard creaks in the hallway.
Torin looks toward the door.
A second later, a man appears in the doorway.
Well. Apparently, I spoke too soon about the place not being bear-y enough.
He’s huge and barefoot, with long dark hair hanging in matted ropes around his shoulders and a beard in much the same condition.
The only thing he’s wearing is a piece of rough brown fabric wrapped around his hips and tied at one side. Guess I’d describe it as a loincloth.
His gaze lands on me. And he stops dead.
For a second, he just stares. Then his eyes drop to the bruise on my jaw before snapping across to Torin.
“Orson,” Torin says.
There’s a warning in his voice.
Orson looks back at me.
“Hi,” I say.
He grunts something that might be a greeting.
“This is Hannah,” Torin says. “Hannah, Orson.”
Orson’s eyes settle on the bruise along my jaw again.
“You staying here?” he asks.
“No. At a cabin a few miles away.”
He nods once.
I glance at Torin. He’s watching his brother closely.
“We’re heading to the lake,” Torin says.
“North bank’s no good. Couple males came through this morning.”
“Clan?”
“Dunno.”
Orson turns to leave, then looks back at me once more. At my face, specifically.
Something about his expression bothers me.
Then he disappears down the hall, apparently deciding that his loincloth and I have socialized enough for one afternoon.
I wait until he’s gone. “What was that about?”
“He’s not great with strangers.”
I look toward the empty doorway.
Maybe.
But I don’t think that’s why he was staring at me.
A few minutes later, we’re back in the truck, winding along the edge of the mountain. This road is even narrower than the one leading to Bennett’s cabin, with pine branches brushing against the passenger side with an occasional scrape.
“How much farther?”
“About thirty seconds.”
I sit up straighter.
Ahead, the trees thin and sunlight flashes between them, followed by a glimpse of sparkling water.
The truck rounds a final bend.
“Oh, wow.”
I lean toward the windshield. The water is unbelievably clear, pale rocks visible beneath the shallows before the lake deepens to blue. Forest crowds the shoreline, and beyond it the mountains rise against the sky.
Torin pulls into a dirt parking area above a small, empty beach.
“Okay,” I say. “This was worth leaving the cabin for.”
Torin grins. “Told you.”
I reach for the door handle. “Where do I change?”
He gestures toward several thousand trees. “Pick one.”
I laugh, then climb out of the truck and head for the forest.