Page 7 of Big Top Bear Raid (Wolves of Stone Ridge #64)

WRAITH IGNORED EURIK, who was half sprawled across his lap.

Considering the sudden tension thrumming from his mate, the scent hitting his nostrils in sharp waves, it wasn’t that hard.

He swept his gaze over Zion’s face, seeing the lines of disbelief and strain there.

Just what the hell is he scenting?

Tipping his chin down and to the side, putting him closer, Wraith took a discreet whiff of Eurik’s wrist.

Except, all he could smell was bear and human.

Considering Eurik was a bear shifter and he’d probably been around a bunch of humans, that didn’t really tell him much.

“Tell me,”

Zion demanded. This time, there was a growl in his voice, betraying his rising frustration.

“Tell me who?”

Gripping Zion’s wrist, Wraith squeezed lightly.

“Let Eurik go,”

he encouraged softly, gaining his mate’s attention. Keeping his voice low, he murmured.

“You’re making a scene, my mate.”

Zion’s nostrils flared, and when he cut his attention to Wraith, his eyes were narrowed and hard.

After a few seconds, his expression softened.

He leaned close to Wraith and took in a long breath, obviously taking in his scent to calm himself, before letting it out through pursed lips. Finally, Zion peeled his fingers from Eurik’s arm and released him.

Eurik slowly straightened, although he remained leaning close.

“A guy working the clothing booth,”

he told him quietly, glancing at the others before refocusing on Zion.

“Said he also helped out with the animals.”

Grimacing, Eurik lowered his voice further and admitted.

“He’s attracted to me, so I figured I could use that. Ya know?”

The bear shifter scented of unease even as he told them.

“If he wants to impress me and all, he might take me back there.”

“It’s a good plan,”

Congo rumbled. At some point, he’d pivoted on the bench seat in front of them. Congo crouched near Zion’s legs, resting a hand on Wraith’s mate’s knee, either to soothe or encourage.

“Talk to me, Zion. What has you so upset?”

“W-Will—”

Zion paused and cleared his throat before trying again.

“Will you smell Eurik’s wrist and tell me if you scent anything...familiar?”

Grimacing, he quickly added.

“That’s not him, of course.”

Congo nodded and held out his hand to Eurik.

The other bear shifter placed the multitude of spicy brown mustard packets onto his tray with his corn dogs, then held out his hand to the alpha.

Congo gripped the back of his hand and lifted his wrist to his nose.

After taking a long slow sniff, Congo lowered Eurik’s hand, but he didn’t release him.

He narrowed his eyes and seemed to be thinking.

Congo hesitated a few seconds before bringing Eurik’s wrist to his nose once more.

Once Congo had taken in the smell again, he released Eurik.

He rested his forearms on his knees and scowled at the floor.

Finally, Congo lifted his head and peered at Zion, questions filling his dark eyes.

“How is that possible?”

Congo whispered.

Zion shook his head, looking just as shell-shocked.

“I-I don’t know.”

“We need to get back there to check,”

Congo declared softly.

“We need to be sure.”

Even Eurik didn’t seem to understand, for he asked what Wraith was wondering.

“Uh, guys? What are you talking about?”

“What are they talking about?”

Madagascar seconded, glancing between them.

Congo let out a heavy breath as he glanced around at the group. Finally, his attention landed on Madagascar.

“Zion thinks he scented someone he knows. Someone who...we thought was dead.”

Flicking out his tongue, betraying his trepidation, Congo licked his lips before he finally muttered.

“Zion thought he scented Acadia...and I’m inclined to agree.”

“Acadia!”

Valentine hissed the name.

“Did you just say Acadia?”

“Who’s Acadia?”

Stone asked, frowning.

“Zion’s cousin,”

Madagascar replied softly. His gaze focused on his brother.

“You sure, Congo?”

“Yeah, the scent is faint, but it’s there.”

Wraith felt a wealth of confusion flooding him. He really had no idea what was going on. Why would the scent of Zion’s cousin on someone upset him so much? They hadn’t talked about family, yet, and Wraith knew he was missing something big.

“Wait a second.”

Eurik leaned half over Wraith again as he glanced between the bears.

“Are you serious?”

His voice lowered to a hiss.

“But we were told Acadia was dead.”

Ah, that’s why.

“Well, holy fuck,”

Madagascar muttered, shaking his head once.

“Would Theresa really have lied to Amelia?”

Wraith wanted to ask who else they were talking about, but he figured he could wait to ask Zion later. The guys were pretty worked up. Of course, discovering someone alive whom they thought was dead was a damn good reason.

“I can’t imagine her having the balls for that,”

Valentine muttered, glancing around uneasily.

Doing the same, Wraith realized they had the attention of nearly half the humans around them. Some had their noses in their phones. Others were holding a program and talking to their companions about it. The rest...stared at them with curiosity.

Congo must have realized the same thing, for he squeezed Zion’s knee and whispered.

“We’ll figure this out, Zion.”

He pinned Wraith’s mate with a firm yet reassuring expression.

“You just sit tight and keep your wits about you.”

Still holding Zion’s gaze, Congo warned.

“No running off halfcocked.”

A muscle ticked in Zion’s jaw, but he jerked a quick nod.

Turning his attention to Wraith, Congo ordered.

“Do what you can to keep him calm.”

“I will,”

Wraith promised. He would do whatever it took to keep his mate safe. To that end, as Congo turned back around, Wraith nudged the large plate of chili cheese nachos Zion had bought for himself.

“Eat and relax, my mate. You’re not alone in figuring this out.”

Wraith wanted to ask so many more questions, but he knew it wasn’t the right time...or place.

Zion swallowed hard even as he nodded a little.

Returning his attention to his chips, he began to eat.

The movements seemed almost mechanical, and his expression had turned vacant, telling Wraith that his mate’s mind was a million miles away.

Figuring Zion needed a little time to center his thoughts, Wraith returned his focus to his cheddar bacon burger.

He took a big bite of the greasy goodness.

One thing could be said for the carny’s food trucks. They made fantastic food.

As Wraith chewed another tasty bite, the lights in the tent lowered.

Low music started up, and he found his attention being drawn to the central ring.

A second later, a spotlight shone from above, illuminating the tunnel entrance.

Fanfare music rose as the ringmaster strolled out.

He carried a raised baton in one hand.

His other was empty and open as he turned this way and that, grinning at the crowd.

“Welcome, welcome, everyone,”

the man called, his voice resonating through the speakers around them.

“I am Ringmaster Goldsteen.”

Grinning widely, he carried on.

“Tonight, you will witness feats of strength, daring, and courage that will thrill your senses and boggle your mind.”

Wraith found himself smirking, and a niggle of anticipation worked through him. He looked forward to seeing whatever the guy was promising. The acts should be fantastic.

“Do you feel that?”

Eurik whispered from his right, leaning forward to speak to those on the bench seat in front of and below them.

“Yup,”

Valentine replied, taking an uneasy look at Stone, who seemed entranced by the ringmaster, too. Valentine even wrapped his arm around his mate and murmured into his ear.

“You okay, Stone?”

Wraith ignored them in favor of hearing Ringmaster Goldsteen introduce the first act—a trio of unicyclers.

While he couldn’t remember ever having been interested in unicycles before, when the group came out, he found their antics impressive.

After all, Wraith couldn’t imagine juggling scimitars while riding a single-wheel bicycle.

“Wraith?”

Hearing Zion softly call his name, Wraith wanted to ignore him.

He would much rather keep focusing on the show.

Except, his wolf rumbled in his mind, clearly displeased with Wraith’s thoughts of not pleasing his mate by giving him attention.

Wraith blinked twice, trying to focus.

He was surprised at the effort it took to tear his attention away from the performers.

Frowning in confusion, Wraith peered at Zion.

Zion cradled Wraith’s jaw, and the feel of his mate’s calloused palm on the carefully groomed scruff of his cheek felt amazing.

It also helped him focus and clear his mind.

Peering into Zion’s deep brown eyes, Wraith caught the bit of worry within their depths.

“Zion?”

Wraith rested the hand not holding his forgotten burger on his mate’s thigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a spell in the air,”

Zion told him, his quiet tones barely able to be heard over the sounds of the music.

“Some kind of entrancement glamour.”

“Really? A spell?”

Wraith glanced around and noticed the enthralled expressions on so many of the faces around them. “Damn.”

Shit. Did I look like that until Zion snapped me out of it?

How embarrassing.

“Yeah.”

Refocusing on Zion, Wraith asked.

“How’d you know?”

Then he wondered.

“Where’s it coming from?”

“This is why Alpha Declan sent us. We can feel it like tingles on our skin, but it doesn’t affect us,”

Zion explained, and Wraith recalled that being mentioned at some point. Using his thumb to rub along Wraith’s jaw, he added.

“And I’m not sure. I don’t smell anything off, so maybe it’s hidden in the music?”

Zion furrowed his brows as he slowly looked around the huge tent.

“I don’t think we know enough about magick to pinpoint its source. We’ll have to report it and see if the alpha has some sort of contact in the magickal community other than Alpha Kontra’s people.”

“Yeah, I doubt they want to turn around and come right back,”

Wraith mused. The biker gang led by a grizzly bear shifter had only left two weeks prior. Feeling confident in his alpha, Wraith claimed.

“I’m sure Alpha Declan will be able to find someone to provide help.”

Eurik leaned over and patted first Wraith’s leg, then Zion’s.

“I’m going to meet Stan.”

At Zion’s questioning look, he added.

“The guy from the shop. I’ll find out if...oh, shit.”

Wraith followed Eurik’s attention and saw immediately what had caught the other shifter’s attention. His eyes widened. The unicycle show had ended, and the next show had begun.

“Oh, fuck no,”

Congo snarled from in front of them.

“Those bitches and bastards.”

The other brown bear shifters let out similar words of anger and disbelief.

Zhaul, a kind giant panda shifter, displayed upset on his features.

Madagascar’s mate—a huge yet sweet-natured wolf shifter—nibbled his bottom lip and looked on in dismay.

A large brown bear stood in the center ring.

It had a thick collar around its neck.

It wore a cape or a cloak-like garment on its back. Wraith would bet that the colorful fabric was hiding scarring beneath it, based on what he’d seen on Zion’s back.

At the man’s command, the bear lifted onto his back legs.

He was ordered to speak, so he roared loudly, showing off plenty of teeth.

Then the man had the bear climb onto a circular wooden stool and allow an acrobat to do tricks on its back.

From the thunderous expressions on the faces of each and every brown bear shifter, Wraith guessed that was Acadia.

Somehow, someway, Zion’s cousin was alive.

While the acrobat was still performing tricks, Congo turned and pinned his hard gaze on Eurik.

“Meet your friend,”

he ordered on a hiss.

“Find out where they’re keeping him.”

A muscle ticked in Eurik’s jaw as he jerked a nod. “I will.”

Then he rushed off, determination filling his dark eyes.

“I want to go,”

Zion growled, beginning to rock to his feet.

“I need to—”

“Not yet,”

Congo stated. Twisting on the bench seat, he clamped a hand on Zion’s calf.

“Wait until Eurik gets a lay of the land.”

His attention strayed back to the show, where the acrobat was taking a bow.

“We need to provide Declan with as much information as we can, and we can’t tip off the magick-wielder.”

Zion growled low in his throat, but he acquiesced, relaxing back onto the bench. “Fine,”

he stated through gritted teeth.

“And I bet that guy right there is the warlock.”

“But there could be more than one,”

Madagascar pointed out.

“We need to know.”

Recalling Congo’s orders, Wraith wrapped his arm around Zion’s shoulders. He tipped his head and pressed a kiss to his mate’s cheek. Wraith felt Zion begin to relax as he turned his head and took in his scent.

Out of the corner of Wraith’s eye, he noticed Congo give him an encouraging nod. Then he released Zion and straightened in his seat.

Wraith moved his hand to Zion’s nape and gently massaged the tense tendons of his neck.

Holding his mate, he watched as the man instructed the bear to bow, which it did by bending one foreleg back and stretching its nose to the ground.

It held itself there until the guy ordered it to rise.

Then, with a wave, he pretended to guide the bear back out of the central ring.

The next up was a group of trapeze artists, and Wraith continued to soothe his agitated mate.