Page 12 of Her Beary Spicy Valentine (Welcome to Bear Mountain #2)

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thank your big sister

holly

M essage to all the younger siblings of big sisters in the world: If you’ve ever doubted the lengths your sis would take to find you, consider this your sign to call her and thank her for being one of the most dedicated and crazy loyal people in your village.

Case in point: Me

Less than ten minutes after taking the Mountie’s hand, my dogged and harrowing search for my sister ended with me standing in what I could only describe as a high-end cave home—like a designer reboot of The Flintstones.

The walls were a mix of smooth, polished stone and natural rock formations. Huge windows let in loads of sun, casting the entire front room in warm light. And the one-of-a-kind furniture screamed handmade by someone who actually knows what they’re doing. There was even a chef’s kitchen carved into the back wall, with copper pans hanging from the stove’s hood and a gorgeous island made out of logs and slate.

But none of that fascinated me as much as the home’s four inhabitants.

One male slept in full bear form in front of what looked less like a bed and more like a fur-lined nest, ringed with smooth stones instead of metal rails like the sad IKEA bed that barely fit into the Vancouver studio I’d moved into after Corey got our suburban two-bedroom in the divorce.

And in that nest, I finally found my sister. She was sleeping soundly between two men with ink-black hair. One was lean and the same light umber color as the Mountie. But strangely, the other lighter one looked like a bearded, burlier version of the man who’d brought me here. Because he was his brother, Mak.

My sister was married to the officially not animatronic Mounties brother. And a doctor named Ash. And also, Cody, the huge Kodiak bear sleeping at the foot of her bed nest. Until spring.

They were hibernating .

That’s what the Mountie had called it when he led me, hand in his, through the Ayaska village—what turned out to be a neighborhood of totem-carved mountainside homes.

Now I stood inside one of those carved-out homes, staring at my sister. Except she wasn’t just my sister anymore. She was… a bear shifter.

Living with not one but three mates.

And even though two of those mates were in such a deep sleep that they hadn’t stirred since we entered, their bodies told a different story. Despite their hibernation, they clearly still desired her.

My gaze caught on the crescent-shaped bites on Noelle’s wrist and shoulders. The marks matched the ones I now carried on my body.

“We should go.”

The Mountie’s voice startled me. He’d appeared beside me, now dressed in a t-shirt that read Bear Mountain Construction and a pair of sweatpants. The hazelnut warmth of his scent was still there, but it was laced with marshmallows—a cloying sweetness that didn’t suit him.

Not his! Make him take it off!

The growling voice inside my head—my bear—rose in protest. Because I was a bear shifter now, too. Just like Noelle and her mates.

The Mountie had been right to bring me here. Seeing my sister like this made everything he’d told me on the walk up click into place. The bites. The bond. The instincts that had started to take over. It all made sense now.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t still have questions. Like, so many questions.

“Since you grabbed new clothes for yourself, can I grab something else to wear from my sister?”

His jaw clenched. Then: “No.”

He grabbed my hand again, cutting off any further debate.

And that’s when I realized: We should go wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

The Mountie tugged me up the stairs and out of the den with a single-minded efficiency that made arguing seem pointless.

“Were you afraid I’d wake them up?” I asked as he led me back down the hill. “Why couldn’t I at least grab something warmer to wear?”

No answer.

“You don’t have to hold my hand anymore,” I said, glancing toward the distance. “I can see the town from here.”

Still, no answer.

Then, instead of heading downhill, he cut left, leading me down a narrow trail lined by more totem-carved caves.

My very human alarm bells went off again. “Where are you taking me?”

Still, silence.

“Koda, stop!” I yanked back, using all my weight to halt his momentum.

He stopped. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression annoyed. But he didn’t let go of my hand. Or answer my questions.

“Koda… That’s your name, right? What that...” I scrambled for a signifier less harsh than guy whose dick you watched me climax on. Three times. And remembered, “Hawk. That’s what Hawk called you.”

Again, no answer. He just stood there, as if waiting for an unruly child to get over her temper tantrum. But I wasn’t a child. Or asking anything I didn’t deserve to know.

“Seriously, what’s going on here?” I demanded, standing my ground. “Why won’t you let me grab more clothes before I leave? Or have my hand back? Or?—”

“Because I can’t,” he bit out, cutting me off before I could finish my growing list of or -fronted questions. “My bear won’t let me. My bear won’t let me do anything right now but put you in a nest where you belong.”

“Where I belong?” I repeated. And then, like a lightbulb flickering on, realization dawned. “Oh my gosh. Do you think we’re mated—like Noelle and her three partners?”

“My bear does,” he answered from between clenched teeth. “My bear wants me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the den nest he made for you. My bear needs you somewhere warm and safe so I can claim you and fill your belly with a cub. Right now, I’m…”

Another grinding clench of his jaw. His hand tightened around mine. “I’m barely holding him back.”

“You’re barely holding him—” My voice gave out, too many questions piling up at once. But one outshone the rest, sharp and dangerous, like a glass shard still lodged in my heart.

“Your bear wants to put a baby in me?” My voice cracked. “That’s why you’re dragging me to another den?”

He didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, heavy and taut, before he gave one terse nod.

“No.”

“No?” Now it was his turn to repeat, his brow furrowing. “After what happened with your ex-husband, do you no longer want to be a mother?”

“No, I want that,” I answered reflexively, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “I want that more than anything. I was even trying to figure out how to make IVF work on my own. But I can’t…” I shook my head, the glass shard twisting deeper into my chest. “I can’t get pregnant—not without medical intervention.”

This was the bombshell. The big reveal. But Koda just looked down his long nose at me, and said, “That’s not what your bear is telling my bear.”

Mate! Mate! Mate! The voice inside me chanted, relentless.

“I doubt my less-than-day-old bear has a good grasp of human anatomy,” I snapped at his terse dismissal. “Or understands how a complicated fertility cycle works—aaahhh!”

The sharp retort cut off as a cramp suddenly doubled me over.

Except, it wasn’t pain.

I recognized it now for what it was. A pulsing ache. Pure, unfiltered need. Trying to bring me to my knees.

“Holly. Holly, look at me,” Koda said urgently, his large hands steadying me as I doubled over. His voice was low, strained, but somehow grounding. “I can feel it. I can feel everything you’re going through.

“You’re in estrus,” he explained, his tone walking the thin line between patience and urgency. “Even if you’re right about your chances of a viable pregnancy without medical help, neither your bear nor mine will let you go home until your cycle is done.”

My nurse brain scrambled to keep up, tangling what I knew of human biology with the crash course in shifter reality I’d been force-fed. “So this is, like, the most obnoxious form of ovulation ever?”

“Exactly.” His face softened, though the strain lingered around his eyes. “Both our bears want you in a nest, taking my seed, no matter the outcome.”

“How long?” I gasped out, clutching his shoulders as another wave of estrus thundered through me. “How long does this last? A day? Two, tops?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted with a grimace. “But sometimes it takes up to a week.”

“Oh, God.” My stomach dropped, panic bubbling up as my body betrayed me again. The slick heat of arousal dripped down my thighs, utterly unbidden.

MARK HIM! The voice inside me roared, louder and more insistent.

I once again felt that weird smearing urge rise inside of me, clawing its way to the surface. Oh no! Oh no! No! No!

I desperately dug my nails into Koda’s shoulders, holding on to him like an anchor against the slather-your-pussy-juice-all-over-his-face storm raging inside me. I couldn’t let it take over again. Not now. Not like this.

“Holly, let me help you.” Koda's grip on my arms tightened, firm but not harsh, as if he understood the urge I was fighting not to fingerpaint my essence onto his sharp, way too handsome face. “I know you’re not ready for this. I’m not either. But we don’t have a choice. Our bears won’t let us stop until this cycle runs its course.”

He actually wanted me to do this. To try. To see if together we could create something I’d stopped believing in.

The question rose in my mind, like that red heart-shaped balloon I thought he’d popped: What if?

What if everything I thought was impossible wasn’t anymore? What if this could work? Could I trust it? Could I trust him ?

My breath hitched as I stared into his dark, steady eyes.

What if?

The shard of hope in my chest pierced through the panic, daring me to imagine a different ending for myself. One where I wasn’t broken. Where I wasn’t alone.

I didn’t have an answer. Not yet. But it was the possibility—the tiniest sliver of hope—that led me to my final response.

Clutching that fragile hope, I whispered, “Okay.”