Page 6 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)

CHAPTER 5

UNDERSTAND

I ’m not prepared for the overt flirting.

That’s on me. Once again, I’m being the snooty vampire with the preconceived notions about other supes. Shifters are part human, part animal. When they believe they’ve found their mate, wouldn’t they let the animal have some control so that they can pin, mount, and fuck?

I know better. Conall and Bridget’s courtship is proof that a male shifter’s main directive is to give their mate everything they want. When he was so certain that she was searching for the fire opal so that she could leave Alaska, he spent his days and some nights helping her look. Even if that meant she left him , his wolf spurred him to do whatever it took to make Bridget happy.

So Henry— Hank —is a big ol’ grizzly bear instead of a wild Alaskan wolf. He’s still a predatory shifter whose instincts will be riding him to keep me safe first, then mate me second… even if the first part of that means who won’t be able to do the second for quite some time.

It’s like Conall said. Mates get to choose. It’s the same for a vampire’s beloved. In order for me to finalize a mate bond with the bear, I’d have to let him have some of my blood, then sleep with him, but if he didn’t accept that we were mates… that he was also choosing me… the blood-bond would linger and that would be all it was.

I always thought that I would be the sort of female who’d find her mate, thank Fate for her gift, and bond him to me almost immediately. Of course, if he was human… if my true beloved had turned out to be Peter, for example… I would’ve waited as long as it took for my mate to recognize that I was his forever.

But as Hank fills up most of Conall and Bridget’s den, both in his massive size and his aura, I have to admit that he believes that I am. And if I could trust myself that the thirst didn’t lead me to accidentally thrall this beautiful if woodsy and extremely rugged male, I’d thank Bridge for her help, then leave with Hank so that we could explore this new bond wavering between us.

If I could… but I can’t. Not yet. I need some distance, to see how the blood-bond reacts and how the echoes of his blood wears off. I need some time, too, to get used to the idea that the bear I found sleeping in the woods could possibly be the future I’ve longed for.

And, more importantly, I need him to stop smiling that crooked smile at me because I’m about to show Bridget a side of Elise van Duren that she’s never seen before…

Bridge knows I’m a vamp. She knows about my countless dinner dates back in Clarity, plus the way that Peter refused to back off when I ended our arrangement. Still, even after all these months, I know she struggles with the reality that I’m a seventy-four-year old vampire with a body counter in the hundreds and the ability to drain a male Hank’s size if I choose to put him under my thrall. My shortness coupled with my baby face has her thinking I’m a helpless human in my early twenties. She treats me like I’d assume an older sister would, always looking out for me…

Including now.

Her eyebrows wing up as Hank teases me, telling me I can call him ‘honey bear’, though her lips thin into a tight frown. “Bear shifter. Mountain man. Whatever. That didn’t answer my question, though, did it?” Her gaze locks on me. “You know him, Elise?”

Is it just my imagination or did Bridget enunciate the ‘E’ in my name with a little more force than normal?

Do I know him? That’s a trick question. Do I admit that I bit a snoring bear while he was sleeping only to discover he’s really a male—and my mate? Because if I say ‘yes’, I’ll have to explain how I know him?—

Conall scowls. “I’m not sure if she does, but I think I do. You’re the solitary bear living in the caves I’ve seen lumbering around the woods. I figured you were another shifter.”

Hank nods at Conall, careful not to keep prolonged eye contact with the alpha wolf. “Thought I knew your scent.” He points at the other male. “You used to live with that pack whose territory was on the other side of the river. They moved on… figured only the wild wolves still roamed the woods. But you moved to the witch town.” He glances at Bridget, just as quickly so as not to trigger Conall’s protective instincts any further. “Found yourself a mate, too. Good for you. That means you understand what I’ll have to do if you try to keep me from mine.”

“You threatening me, Barrett?”

“Toldja. It’s Hank. And nah. Just making myself clear.” His eyes find me again. “Don’t you fear nothing, Lise. Especially not your mate. I promise, I won’t bite. Least, not until I want me to.” His fingers slide up his neck, probing the scar I gave him. “But feel free to bite me if ya like. A vampire… I don’t hunt as well as the wolves, thought I’m a bang-up fisherman.” His eyes become heavy-lidded again. “Still, I like the idea of giving you my blood. It’ll make providing for my mate so much easier if she just has to nibble on her bear.”

Her bear.

My bear.

Bridget looks at me. “Elise, sweetie? You’re awful quiet over there. This guy is making a looot of assumptions here. You want to help me out? What the hell is going on?”

The words just blurt out of me: “I didn’t know he was my beloved! I just… I was so thirsty, and I thought the bear was hibernating!”

“And now?” asks Hank.

My mouth opens. I can’t find the words so I close it again.

And, oh, he doesn’t like that at all.

His forehead furrows. “You denyin’ me?” He taps the scars on his throat, his voice dropping an octave. “After you just gave me these?”

I’m not the only one who notices his sudden mood. Bridget’s fingers spark. They’re not quite flames, but the promise of them setting loose from the witch at the slightest provocation. Next to her, Conall stiffens, his own protective instincts kicking in.

Of course. He has an upset bear in his territory… in his home … with his own mate right there. Whether or not Hank is playing the part of the ‘nice guy’ with his ‘aw shucks’ demeanor, I don’t buy it when he says he wasn’t threatening Conall. He was , but only in the way a predator takes his job to care for his mate super seriously.

“You bit him?” Bridget squeals, turning to me, a flash of relief crossing her pretty face as I sheepishly nod. “You finally got blood? At least something good came out of this.”

“I do scent Elise on the bear,” adds Conall. “Those marks are from her.”

Hank crosses his arms over his chest, expression defiant. “And I kept them because they’re to commemorate the first time my mate marked me.”

I figured as much.

He has Bridget’s attention again. “How did you know? If you were sleeping in the woods when she bit you, how do you know she’s your mate?”

Unless she’s actively conjuring fire, it’s impossible to tell that she’s a witch. Most magic is like that. It’s hidden, and though I’ve heard some witches have a unique tell that tips off some other supes, the rare elemental witch isn’t one of them. I went six months before I knew what Bridget was—mainly because she didn’t know, either—and even Conall believed she was human at first. Hank didn’t react when Bridget opened the door, showing off her fireballs, and I’m not sure if it’s because he wasn’t worried about her blasting him—or if he was too busy searching the house for his missing mate to even notice.

He gives her an assessing look now, probably wondering why a female a good head shorter than him is glaring up at him like that.

He has to be at least a foot taller than me. I’d put him at about 6’5” in his bare feet, everything about him so incredibly huge, I feel so small in his presence. That could be a good thing. As short as I am, most of my lovers are bigger males. I enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in their arms, spooned from behind, loved and adored after a good fucking.

If Hank is like most other shifter males, I’m his only chance to fuck at all. That’s assuming the bear shifter that Conall describes as solitary didn’t enjoy himself with other females while waiting to find his fated mate—and one knowing look as our eyes meet again… me looking up, Hank peering down at me… makes me believe that my assumption is right .

There’s hope in those eyes. Satisfaction. Lust, yes, but also pleading. He wants me to believe him. He’s just as scared that I won’t. That I’ll reject him, and he’ll never be able to claim his fated mate.

Solitary… how lonely is this male? Living out alone in the woods, spending his days transformed as his bear… can I be his savior at the same time as he saves me ?

Even if I can’t bring myself to deny him, I can’t deny the fact that he at least believes we’re meant to be together.

But how ?

I swallow. “Bridget’s got a point,” I say softly. “Are you… are you sure?”

I am. That’s the worst part. From the moment I took that first sip, a part of me instinctively recognized that the bear was mine. I want to blame the thrall… but even if I could charm him, I can’t charm myself. I thought he was my beloved because of his taste.

And Hank?

He seems to readily accept that I’m his mate because?—

“Only one thing is powerful enough to yank me out of my hibernation: the scent of my mate.” He breathes in deep. “Lise smells like the first snowfall mixed with honey and something I can’t quite place that makes my mouth water. All I know is that it’s made for me, and it belongs to my mate.”

Bridget told me that Conall said vampires stink like old meat and ice and rust due to our steady diet of blood. There’s a reason shifters refer to my kind as ‘corpses’. Even born vampires present as dead to their kind… and Hank wants me to believe that he likes the way I smell?

If I’m his mate, he would adore it…

Bridget scoffs. “Bears still hibernate in May?”

Hank’s eyebrows draw together. “The technical term for what I was doin’ is torpor, actually. It’s still a deep enough sleep that I didn’t know she was there until her scent filtered in through my nose… right about the time she sucked my throat and gave me the biggest hard-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Spots of pink appear on Hank’s tanned cheeks. Ruffling his hair, he hides his embarrassment behind the longish strands that fall in front of his eyes.

“Beggin’ your pardon,” he mumbles, addressing me. “I shoulda known better. You’re my mate, but that doesn’t mean I have to be so forward with you yet.” He gestures at his jeans. “See? I figured a male needed to be partly dressed to come callin’ and bring his mate back to his den.”

I instantly go pale.

Up until that moment, I wanted Hank to be my beloved. He’s handsome. Strong. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that, as my mate, he’ll have to feed me because anyone else’s blood will taste vile in comparison once we’re fully bonded. He just made it clear he’s attracted to me, and after some of the things Bridget teasingly confided in me about her shifter mate, I’m liking the idea of having a strapping predator of my own.

I wouldn’t have to worry about Peter anymore. No Julian propositioning me for sex in exchange for his blood. If they even tried to bother me, I’d have a bear to roar and send them running.

But his den ?

Conall said Hank lives out in the woods. He had to have clothes nearby to cover up, and it doesn’t take a genius to deduce that he most likely makes his den inside of the dark, dank above ground cave off of the clearing where I found him sleeping.

Dark, I repeat. Enclosed. Not as small as a coffin, but even after dealing with my trauma for more then seventy years, the thought of willingly walking into a cave where the shadows can suffocate me has my body shaking as I clasp my hands together in front of my chest.

Bridget knows about my past. I had to tell her when she invited me to help her search the underground caves for the fire opal. When she sees my reaction, she completely understand why I would shut down at Hank’s suggestion.

Always protective, she grits her teeth. “Yeah. That’s not happening.”

“That so? I don’t hear Lise over there tellin’ me ‘no’, so I can’t imagine why such a wee thing like you thinks it’s okay to get between a male and his mate.

Conall growls under his breath, but Bridget stops him by holding up her hand. A moment later, it’s covered in fire again as she dares Hank to even try to make a move nearer to me.

“Witch?” he asks.

“You know it.”

He nods, impressed. “Li’l firebug, you are. And protective of my mate. Friends?”

“ Best friends.”

The way Bridget claims me like that does more to warm me up than her fire does. In all my years, I had acquaintances and I had colleagues, but she’s my first true friend. It always amazes me that she feels the same.

“Then I hope you and me will be friends, too. And the wolf,” he adds before Conall’s jealousy takes over. “Anyone who’s lookin’ out for her is someone I can be friendly with. And I’m tryin’. I just…” He looks imploringly at Conall. “Is stickin’ your foot in your mouth after first meetin’ your mate a shifter thing? Or a male thing?”

“Both,” Conall says flatly, though there’s a hint of amusement in his gold eyes.

“Noted.” Hank bobs his head again. “Okay. I see I done fucked it up somehow. The witch looks like she’s gonna set my fur on fire, and my mate seems like she’s about to pass out. I know I’m a big fella. Haven’t sheared off my hair in a while. Probably need a good dunk in the river… but I toldja. You don’t have to be scared of me.”

It’s not him I’m scared of. It’s…

“This is new for me, too,” he says, lowering his voice to a soft drawl. “I didn’t expect none of this, thought I’d be lyin’ if I said this… you… ain’t a dream come true for this ol’ bear.” He takes another deep breath. “But I can scent your fear.” He gentle his voice. “And I can’t stand the idea of my mate bein’ afraid of me.”

Hank exhales. His hands still in his pockets, he bows his back forward, closing in on himself as if trying to make himself appear smaller.

“Elise?”

I dare a peek at him again. “Yes?” I whisper.

“You know where to find me. I know where to find you. This… we’re mates.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I know that. I’m hopin’ you don, too. I have your mark. I’m not goin’ anywhere… so I’ll be waitin’ out by my den for you to join me. When you’re not afraid. Understand?”

Understand?

I blink, then I slowly nod my head.

He quirks his lips in a crooked smile. “Good.” Blowing out a rush of air through his nose, he address the rest of the house. “I’ll wait as long as she needs. Hell, I’ll wait forever if it means she looks at me like I’m worth it instead of like she’s scared.”

And then, before anyone can say another word to the big bear, he turns on his heel, padding away from Conall’s house.

Stunned, Bridget looks over at me. “That’s it? He’s, uh, just leaving?”

I don’t answer her. Not because I’m still terrified at the thought of joining him in his dark, quiet den out in the woods. I mean, I am , but the way Hank fought against his urges to claim me, giving me what I needed rather than taking what he wanted?

He’s already taking care of me the way only a predatory shifter can.

So why do I feel a slight ache inside of me, the ache of his sudden absence, unsettling me far more than I can admit to even Bridget?

Why?

Because he is my mate—and my vampire territoriality is telling me that now that I know that he is, I can’t bear to be apart from my bear.