Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
“Connal. Con. Wake up and look at me.”
The voice sounded insistent, and he tried not to grumble, because he was so tired.
“Con!” That was Race, snapping at him.
“Wha’?”
“Your brothers are here. They’re taking you to the trailer so you can shift.”
He tried to sit up. “Not leaving without you.”
“No. I’m coming with you. I have to get our stuff and settle the bunny.”
“Promise?” His voice was just a croak, but what if Race changed his mind about the mates thing?
“Yep.” I swear, mate. We just need to get you loaded up. I’m coming with you.
Okay.
Con? We’ll carry you, okay. But you tell us if we hurt you.”
“No.” He shook his head at War. “Got to keep the bunny safe, not draw attention. Just get on either side of me and prop me up.”
“Should I lead the way or help, Race?” Robbie asked.
“Help me, Robbie. We’ll go together.”
“Okay.” The bunny sounded super nervous, so he was glad Race had jumped in. They policed the room, gathering anything that could be used against them, and when they were ready to walk out, War was there to escort them. Their bikes were on a trailer attached to the back of the big RV.
They loaded up, and once they had the doors closed, he could breathe again. Kind of. That walk had been… Well, he was throbbing and aching. They left Robbie with Ryder and his mate Nolan, who also happened to be Race’s brother…
He grinned. Nolan looked amazing. Happy. Giving hugs like he’d never flinched when someone touched him.
Race climbed next to him and curled close, holding him tight. Mate.
Yes. Thank the Goddess Race finally knew.
My rational brain is telling me there’s no such thing. It’s totally being overridden by hormones and magic.
Their souls knew what they knew, and damn the consequences.
So you were wrong. It happens.
Yeah, yeah, sue me. I’m going to be stuck with you for life, you weirdsmobile.
Good. I can’t wait. Long bike rides. Dangerous rescues. Hot sex. Fun for all.
His consciousness was drifting a wee bit.
You can shift now, you know. It’ll help, and there’s room.
Will you shift with me?
Mmm…I don’t know if the axle can hold both of us, but I’ll ask War.
Okay. He needed to shift at the very least, to heal up faster. Connal felt the need to protect his mate, and in this condition there was no way.
Shh…I’ll protect you, fair? It’s going to be okay.
I’m here if you need me, though. He could fight through the sleep and pain if he had to.
Race’s ran a hand through his hair, stroking him nice and easy.
He felt it all the way in the pit of his belly, the connection, the comfort. Suddenly, hair became fur, and he pulled Race into him, his paws dragging him close.
“Mmmfph.” Race laughed, the sound breathless. “War, can I bear out too?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we modified this bitch a couple years ago to support three grizzlies.”
“Cool. If you need me, holler. I’m going to—”
“Mate with your mate?” Nolan was never going to let Race live this down. It suited Con to the bone.
“Shut up, brother. No one asked you.” Race stuck his tongue out at Nolan and then, as Connal watched, his mate let his bear out in a rush — as soon as he stripped off his leathers.
Those are expensive to replace.
I know. You’re good. Sleep with me, mate. Con was so tired.
Of course, Bear. Rest. I’m right here.
He let his eyes drift closed, and he thought about all the things he wanted to do with Race, not even sexual things, although he was so ready for that as soon as he recovered.
He wanted to go hunting berries, go fishing, laze around in the sun in his cabin, tinker away at his weird art or machinery projects, and let Race cover him with questions.
Race’s paws never let up, stroking him, digging into his fur anywhere it wasn’t going to hurt him. I want all those things too, but for now you need to sleep; you have to or you won’t heal.
I’m trying. I think it’s still just a little bit of adrenaline from the guys showing up trying to wear off, but I promise I’m working on it.
Race snuggled in close and went boneless against him, leading by example. Sleep now, Con. After that there was nothing but soft snores coming from Race.
Sleep now. He could do that. His brothers were here. His mate was here. His bike was here.
So Con let himself drift off. Finally. And the pain didn’t follow him too far down.
It was going to work out.
They dropped Robbie the bunny off at the bar where their wolf shifter buddy Quin and his brothers would take the next step of finding the poor guy housing, help, and a way to get back on his feet and back into his real life.
Then they went home.
Race knew he couldn’t think of it as home yet, because it wasn’t his place, but the plot of land was Nolan’s home, and it was Connal’s too, so that was where they were going.
The chunk of territory that the grizzlies held was vast, which made sense —three grizzlies needed space. Even if they were brothers, they still had that immediate urge to protect themselves, protect their mates.
Race was actually a little bit nervous that they’d get there, and that Connal would decide that he didn’t belong.
It wasn’t as if he couldn’t stay with Nolan; of course he could. He was always welcome, and he knew it, but it didn’t really matter.
He wanted to stay with Connal.
It was as though, once he’d admitted to the big goofball that he was actually mated, it was like he had a stroke or something and he couldn’t un-admit it. He couldn’t pretend not to care.
It kind of pissed him off, but it was what it was.
What could he say? He was a grumpy asshole. And Con had this Golden Retriever energy. A match made in… Well, the irony was thick.
He headed to Con’s bedroom as soon as he got to the cabin, War dropping him off with a, “Feed him well.”
Taking a deep breath, he headed inside, loving how weird and art-focused the place felt, with wild bear sculptures out front and a wall-sized woven art piece on the main wall of the entry.
Do you need anything? Race felt very uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure he was welcome in the bed, but there was a huge, overstuffed recliner that looked like it was made for sleeping in. He found the remote on the heavy wood bedside table, and that decided him.
He’d sit in the chair and watch TV while Connal slept.
That seemed like the most logical thing, but first he needed to find out if Connal needed anything.
There was a kitchen. Obviously there’d be food.
I can get you a drink?
Connal’s response was to snort at him, roll over, and start farting and snoring.
He took that as a no.
Also, he had to open a window, because, damn — stressed bear farts.
Thank God there was a balcony.
He wandered out into the fading sunlight to suck in fresh air.
The balcony was huge, big enough for all three grizzlies to stand on it, and the furniture was all solid wood and metal, wrapped together.
It was fascinating and so complicated. There was mixed-media art and twisted metal sculptures all over, wild colors and strange angles that had been made into small nooks and bathrooms and…
It was weird for him, because he’d be honest, he didn’t have much. Everything he owned was all in a bag in his saddlebags on his bike. He had a storage unit, but that was for work gear.
He didn’t even have a pillow of his own.
Mate, come lie down with me. We’ll eat later. Nolan and Rye will bring food.
Race grinned. Even sound asleep, Con was talking to him. It was like he couldn’t help himself. He was just a chatterbox.
God knew, he’d never expected to have a chatterbox as a mate. Race valued his privacy and his silence, or at least he had.
Now, he just wanted Con. Race wanted to be around him. He wanted Con to feel good with him. He wanted Con to make him smile, because he always did.
So instead of hunting for food, Race stripped off, sniffing his bits to make sure he didn’t have adrenaline and stress sweat going on, and then he crawled into bed with Con. His big grizzly immediately wrapped around him, his heavy fur a tiny bit stifling, but it didn’t matter. It felt good.
The bed is strong enough for both of us to be bears, Con told him. So is the floor. I had all the beams reinforced.
“Perfect.” He let his bear come. Race knew he was a lot smaller than Con as a black bear, and he tended to be lean and wiry no matter what form he was in, but it felt good to snuggle this way. In fact it felt like nothing else ever.
I understand. You smell like mine, like heaven, and I want you, but this? This is magic.
Race vocalized softly, nuzzling into Con, being gentle as he could. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
Con groaned a little, paws stretching out, the injured side less flexible, but he could tell it was better than it had been when Con was first shot.
I’m sorry you got hurt.
Me too, but it happened. I can’t believe someone would hunt a bunny.
They were really working it for sure. But I think you’re right. It was a trap. For me. And Race was fucking tired of being tranqued and droned and baited into traps. He just wanted to close his eyes for a minute and rest.
Of course, he’d gotten his grizzly shot.
Mmmm. Nope. I got me shot. I was slow. I do this for a living too. Con snorted into his neck, tickling him.
You fix motorcycles, you dork. He chuffed softly though, his toes curling.
That too. But we do a lot of helping Quin.
Okay, okay. You’re good Samaritans. He was humoring the injured lunatic.
Don’t make me bite you.
He shivered and nudged Con with his head. Don’t tease.
I’ll do plenty of biting as soon as I’m able, baby. Trust me.
I do trust you. Wasn’t that a revelation? Race didn’t trust easily. He wasn’t even sure he completely trusted War and Rye yet, especially not with Nolan, but Connal somehow had not only gotten his trust by being his mate but earned it by being there for him, by taking that bullet.
They weren’t just mates; they were comrades in arms or whatever. It made a difference.
Also, he was so in love with Con already that he was deeply, deeply fucked.
Mmmm, I like the idea of that, both the loving and the fucking.
So do I mate. He rubbed their faces together not enough to wake Con up completely but just enough to comfort himself. Soon. Now go all the way to sleep so you can heal.
He could totally sleep himself now that the bunny was not in his custody. He hadn’t been able to rest when he was waiting for War and Rye to show up because that was too much on his plate.
A plate. He could totally murder some food. He had decided not to make anything because, like he said he thought Nolan and Ryder would bring them something soon but wow he was starving. All this stress and shifting and running and traveling did it to him.
Con started snoring again. This time really deep in sleep, relaxed and completely trusting Race as well.
It was the best feeling in the world, and he let himself drift off, holding on to Con and listening to his belly rumble until he dropped into a deep sleep like a rock dropping into a pool of water.