Page 58 of Mated to the Mountain Bear (Bear Protector #1)
BODHI
“But is he even mentally stable enough to do it?”
I freeze outside the door of Chase Walker’s security firm, my sensitive ears catching every word through the supposedly soundproof walls. My brother Beau dragged me here from my mountain refuge with barely an explanation, just the promise that it was “ important enough to put on pants for. ”
Funny. Except the denim feels like sandpaper against my skin after weeks of fur.
I roll my shoulders, still feeling awkward back on two feet after so long and stiff and sore after a painful shift. My bear resisted until the end.
Which tells me my brother’s right — I’ve left it too long to shift, but I have no intention of admitting that to him.
Pushing forward, despite being uncomfortable when I step indoors, the scent hits me first — beef, char-grilled, with melted cheese and the tang of pickles. Three months in bear form has left my appetite insatiable, and somewhere in this building, someone’s eating a burger.
My mouth waters and my head whips toward the source of the smell, an ashen-faced human man slumped down behind his computer, staring at me wide-eyed as I eye his burger like the hungry predator I am.
When he slides it across the desk, as though inviting me to take it, I stop giving him a death stare, shake my head and move on. After so long in fur, I forget my manners, or just decent human behaviour.
“He’s been living as a goddamn bear for months, Chase.” The voice belongs to Tripp, one of Chase’s human co-founders of their security business. “The last two jobs, he was just muscle. Stand there, look intimidating, don’t talk. His speciality. But this is completely different.”
His lack of faith in me should concern me, but I don’t blame him for having reservations. I’m not sure why they’d want me here either.
“Someone’s life depends on it,” adds another voice. Van, I think. My memories are always jumbled, hard to tease apart after a long stint in the woods where all I worry about is food and sleep. “We can’t afford to throw in a wild card who might snap and go full grizzly at any moment.”
My interest peaks at that. Someone’s life. Not just another tedious protection detail where I scare away intrusive photographers with my size. One where I can burn off some of this anger that rises inside me as soon as I return to two feet.
“Bodhi is stronger than you think,” Chase responds, his tone firm. “And he’s the perfect fit for this operation.”
I appreciate Chase’s support, but he doesn’t really know me. He’s mated to my sister, so he has to be nice to me. No matter how much of a fuck-up I am.
“Because he’s Leon Lennox’s son?” Van again, skeptical. “Because he understands the criminal underworld? Or because you want to save him from himself?”
My jaw tightens, muscles bunching painfully. I don’t need saving. I need... something. Purpose, maybe. Forgiveness definitely, though I doubt I’ll ever find it.
For an instant, I’m back there, with my father standing over someone, a friend of mine, ready to deliver the fatal blow.
The sickening sound, bone and cartilage crushing as I charged and slammed him into a tree.
His eyes widening in shock, then narrowing in fury as he realised he couldn’t get back up.
The shame, the guilt for sentencing him to a fate worse than death for any shifter.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, dragging me back to the present.
A text from Mitch.
Clan meeting tomorrow. Time to come home, brother. Enough is enough.
I silently pocket the phone. Mitch has been running things since that night, keeping the peace, maintaining appearances. The clan doesn’t need me.
How could they trust a bear who almost killed his own father, their alpha? And then never came back to claim the pack?
The itch begins between my shoulder blades. The need to shift, to let my bear take over. It’s constant now, stronger indoors, almost overwhelming in crowds. I roll my shoulders, fighting it back.
Heavy boots approach the door from inside. I step back, drawing myself to my full height as Beau pulls open the door.
“Are you going to lurk out there all day?” My older brother’s expression gives nothing away, but his eyes, identical to mine, hold a knowing gleam. He knows well that I was debating whether to come in at all.
I grunt in response. Words don’t come easily anymore. Why speak when growls communicate so much more efficiently? Three months spent more time as a bear than man has left my human side rusty, neglected.
I force myself to walk into the converted warehouse. The vast space contains a command centre with screens everywhere, meeting areas with tactical maps, and what looks like a small armoury behind glass.
Despite the open floor plan, the walls close in. My skin crawls. My bear scratches beneath the surface, desperate to break free, to run back to the mountains.
But the scent of food is even more tempting now.
I can practically taste the meat. My nostrils flare, and I catch other scents too: coffee brewed three hours ago, gun oil, the distinct smell of fear from the human in the corner.
He’s been pretending to work, but his fingers haven’t hit a key since I walked into the room.
The mix of scents itch my nose, and my bear huffs, wanting to get out of here ASAP. But beneath it all is the lingering scent of my brother’s anxiety.
And Beau is never anxious.
Chase Walker rises from behind a glass desk. He’s tall for a human, even for a shifter, but still has to look up to meet my eyes. “Bodhi. Thanks for coming.”
I accept his handshake with a nod, acutely aware of Tripp and Van’s scrutiny from across the room. Their eyes catalogue my every twitch, every subtle sign of the war raging inside me. They’ve worked with shifters long enough to recognise a man hanging onto his human side by a thread.
“Please sit.” Chase gestures to a chair designed for normal-sized humans.
I remain standing. “Why am I here?” My voice sounds strange to my own ears. Rough, disused, more growl than speech.
Chase exchanges a glance with Beau, who gives a slight nod. “We have a situation that requires your... unique skill set.”
“My charming personality?”
Violence. They mean violence and intimidation.
Tripp snorts from across the room. “He can still speak. That’s something at least.”
Chase slides a file across the desk.
“Nikolai Kozlov,” Chase says as I flip open the folder with fingers that feel too big, too clumsy for this human task. “Russian, built a criminal empire across three states. Operates about fifty miles from your clan’s territory.”
“What’s he done?” Each word requires conscious effort, like flexing long forgotten muscles.
“Extortion, money laundering, probable human trafficking,” Chase says, watching my reaction.
“But we’re concerned with a specific situation.
He’s taken a hostage.” Chase taps a photo in the file.
“Emma Wilson, 28, as collateral for a gambling debt. We were working with her brother to get her back but he’s gone silent.
We haven’t heard from him in three days. ”
I stare at the photo, a woman with honey-blonde hair and determined eyes that seem to look right through me. Something stirs in my chest, an unfamiliar tug that makes my bear suddenly alert. She looks pretty, but sad. Lost.
Maybe he’s so intrigued because she reminds me of myself when I look in the mirror.
“And you want me to...?” I leave the question hanging, distracted by the strange reaction to this woman’s image.
“We need someone on the inside,” Chase says, dragging a hand down over his stubbled chin.
“Inside his gang,” I repeat, the word bitter on my tongue. “You want me to work for this man? Doing God only knows what?”
“Our father’s reputation opens doors we couldn’t normally access,” Beau says bluntly. “The Lennox name carries weight. Kozlov needs more muscle after losing two men in a territory dispute last week. He’ll jump at the chance to hire Leon Lennox’s son.”
I’m too rattled to speak. Beau watches me, a sympathetic expression on his face, knowing how hard it is to talk about him at all.
“Your cover is simple,” Chase continues. “You’ve fallen out with your family after the... incident with your father, and you need work.”
I look at Emma’s photo again. “The brother’s dead?”
“Maybe. We’re working on it.”
The probability is high. Chances are this isn’t the only person he owed money to.
“I’ll do it,” I say, the words emerging before I’ve fully processed the decision.
The tension in the room shifts. Beau’s eyebrows rise slightly, the equivalent of shocked surprise from my normally impassive brother. He thought it would be a harder sell.
“Just like that?” Van asks, suspicious.
I shrug one massive shoulder, the henley stretching tight across my back. “Someone’s life is on the line. You said it yourself.”
This might get them all off my back, and prove I’m not as close as they think to turning feral.
Chase studies me for a long moment, then nods. “We start prep tomorrow. You’ll need a complete briefing on Kozlov’s operation, training on the comms we’ll use to stay in contact, and...”
“A refresher on how to act human?” I finish for him, surprising myself with the bitter humor.
Chase’s expression softens slightly. “I was going to say a shower and a hair cut, but sure, we can work on your small talk too.”
Van steps forward, crossing tattooed arms over his chest. He keeps a careful distance, fully aware of what I am, and yet his stance is challenging.
“This isn’t just another security detail, Lennox. This woman’s life is on the line. If you’re not 100 percent focused, she pays the price.”
“What Van is trying to say,” Tripp adds, slightly more diplomatic, “is that this isn’t a kamikaze mission. If you’re looking for a way to prove a point, find it somewhere else. Are we clear?”
There will be no going out in a blaze of glory. I get the message loud and clear.
My bear stirs again, a protective instinct flaring to life that I don’t understand at the idea of this poor woman, caught up in something she doesn’t understand or deserve.
He’s determined to bring her home.
“Crystal.”
Want to read about the heroic rescue of a damsel in distress by a hot, rugged alpha who’s more bear than man?
Read the rest of Bodhi’s story in Fated to the Alpha Bear