Page 82 of Mated to the Mountain Bear

Get inside and lock the door.Those were Maddox’s orders.

Another branch breaks outside. Too heavy for the wind to be responsible. Through the window, I catch movement in the trees.

Ben’s out there, fighting a whole pack.

I picture him surrounded, blood matting his fur. He’s doing this for me because I’m his mate, but what am I doing for him?

The wolf thinks I’m his too, which means he shouldn’t want to hurt me. His packshouldn’twant to kill me.

I grab the keys.

The gun is steady in my grip as I unlock the door. Security lights illuminate an empty yard. I sprint to the truck, and the engine starts on the first try. I slam it into reverse, spin around, gravel spraying, and floor it back toward Ben’s cabin.

The drive blurs past. Trees press close on either side. I take the turns too fast, tires protesting. Hold on. Please. Just hold on.

I burst into the clearing, headlights sweeping across the fight.

Blood covers the ground where two massive bears hold the clearing against a tide of wolves. Ben tears through another wave of attackers, every swipe of his massive paws sending bodies flying. He’s bloodied but still fighting hard, still on his feet. Maddox works beside him, the brothers coordinating their attacks. But more wolves keep coming, circling, looking for openings. At least eight or nine still standing, with more shapes moving in the trees beyond.

A wolf breaks from the pack. Larger than the others, grey-black fur bristling. The alpha. He stalks toward the truck, lips pulled back from his teeth.

His yellowed eyes lock on mine.

No. Hell no.

I slide out of the passenger seat, and the smell hits immediately—blood and wet fur.

My hands stay steady as I raise the gun and fire into the sky.

The crack splits the night, and every wolf flinches. Even the alpha freezes, mid-stride, those yellowed eyes now fixed on the gun barrel pointed at his head, and the wolves circling Ben and Maddox pause.

“Nobody dies tonight.” My voice carries across the clearing. “Not for me. Not because of me.”

The gun doesn’t waver. I position myself between the truck and the fight where everyone can see me. The headlights throw my shadow long across the ground.

“Everyone shift back to human form. Now.” I adjust my aim slightly, keeping it trained on the alpha while addressing the pack. “Don’t test me. I brought silver bullets for the occasion.”

Several wolves look to their alpha, uncertain. Their ears flatten. One wolf takes a step toward me, then stops, whining. Another shifts his weight, caught between pack loyalty, the knowledge that their leader says I’m his mate, and the suspicion that something is off here.

One by one, the transformation begins. Naked men appear where beasts stood moments before, hands raised in surrender, while they bare their teeth at Ben and Maddox. Some clutch wounds that look worse on human flesh.

Maddox shifts beside Ben, immediately pressing a hand to his bleeding side. “Zara, what the hell are you doing here?”

I don’t answer. Don’t take my eyes off the alpha. “You, too. Shift. Now.”

The alpha’s form ripples and distorts. Fur recedes, then grows back in patches, and his bones crack and reform at wrong angles. He collapses, panting, before slowly pushing through to complete the change.

“Poor bastard,” Maddox mutters. When Ben growls, he shrugs. “Look at him.”

Ben forces the shift. I hear bones crack, see him sway slightly as he returns to human form. Blood runs from the wounds across his chest and arms, but he stands tall. Powerful. He moves to my side immediately, arm wrapping around my waist.

“That’s close enough,” he says to the alpha.

The moment Ben touches me, the alpha goes rigid. Every muscle tenses. A snarl builds in his throat as he climbs to his feet.

“She’smine,” Ben states clearly. His hand splays possessively across my stomach. “My mate. Not yours. She’s accepted me.”

I lean back into him, letting my body language speak in agreement.