Page 15 of The Right to Bear Claws (Hollow Oak Mates #6)

ELIAS

E lias lay in his own bed for exactly twenty-seven minutes before giving up on sleep entirely.

His bear had restless energy, alternating between satisfaction at finally claiming their mate's affections and frustrated demand for more. Claim her. Mark her. Make sure everyone knows she's ours.

"We discussed this," he muttered to his empty bedroom, scrubbing both hands through his hair. "She needs time to process everything."

She said she loves us. She chose us. What more processing does she need?

The memory of Kaia's confession made something warm and fierce settle in his chest. She loved him. After everything she'd been through, all the reasons she had to run, she'd chosen to stay and fight for what they had together.

But love and claiming were two different things, and Elias had seen what happened when alphas rushed their mates into bonds they weren't ready for.

He wouldn't do that to Kaia. No matter how much his bear demanded immediate action.

By six AM, he'd given up on rest entirely and headed to the construction compound, hoping physical labor would burn off some of the restless energy coursing through his system.

The workshop was empty this early, which suited his mood perfectly.

He could channel his protective instincts into practical preparations without having to explain his sudden obsession with reinforcing every defensive measure in town.

"You're here early," Magnus observed, emerging from the office trailer with a steaming cup of coffee and the kind of knowing look that suggested he'd been expecting this conversation.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Mm-hmm." His father settled onto a nearby workbench, studying Elias with paternal perception. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you didn't come home until dawn, would it?"

Elias cleared his throat to stop the blood spreading to his face. "I was with Kaia."

"I figured as much. Question is, how are you handling whatever happened between you two?"

"We told each other we love each other," Elias said simply. "And now my bear wants to claim her immediately while my brain knows she needs more time to adjust to all the supernatural stuff."

"Ah." Magnus nodded with understanding. "The eternal alpha dilemma. How much patience can you stand before your protective instincts overwhelm your good judgment?"

"Something like that."

"For what it's worth, you're handling it right. Rushing a mate bond, especially with someone who's been traumatized and is still learning about our world, is a recipe for disaster."

"Tell that to my bear."

"Your bear will survive a little delayed gratification. Besides, you've got bigger problems to focus on right now." Magnus's expression grew serious. "Halloween's in six days, and if the reports from the Night Guard are accurate, supernatural activity is ramping up all over town."

Elias straightened, grateful for the distraction from his internal struggle. "What kind of activity?"

"Shadows moving wrong, electronic equipment malfunctioning near the lake, residents reporting nightmares so vivid they're waking up exhausted." His father's weathered face creased with concern. "Whatever's hunting your mate is getting stronger."

"Then we'd better make sure our defenses are ready."

They spent the next hour going over the town's protective infrastructure, identifying weak points and planning reinforcements. By the time Finn and Thorin arrived, Elias had a comprehensive list of improvements that would keep him busy for days.

"Well, someone's in a productive mood," Finn observed, studying the detailed plans Elias had sketched out. "These ward reinforcements are pretty sophisticated stuff."

"Halloween's coming," Elias said by way of explanation. "Better safe than sorry."

"Uh-huh." Thorin settled at his own workbench, pulling on work gloves with deliberate movements. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your mate situation, would it?"

"My what situation?"

"Oh, come on." Finn grinned with typical younger brother mischief. "You think we didn't notice you floating around here like you won the lottery? Or the fact that you smell like happiness and... other things?"

"Finn."

"What? I'm just saying, whatever happened last night, it obviously went well. You've got that 'my mate loves me back' glow going on."

Magnus chuckled from across the workshop. "Subtle as a brick to the face, that one."

"I don't glow," Elias protested.

"Brother, you're practically humming," Thorin said with affection. "It's nice to see, honestly. You've been wound tighter than a spring since Kaia arrived."

"I'm still wound tight. Just for different reasons now."

"The claiming bond?"

Elias nodded, grateful his family understood the complexities without him having to explain. "She's not ready yet. Hell, she just learned what mate bonds are yesterday. But my bear..."

"Wants to mark her immediately and damn the consequences," Finn finished. "Yeah, we've all been there."

"How did you handle it?" Elias asked Thorin, who'd gone through his own claiming bond challenges with his mate two years ago.

"Lots of cold showers and aggressive woodworking," his older brother said with a rueful smile. "And reminding myself every five minutes that earning her trust was more important than satisfying my bear's timeline."

"The waiting's the hardest part," Magnus added. "But it's also what makes the bond stronger when it finally happens. She'll know you chose patience over possessiveness, that you respected her autonomy even when your instincts were screaming otherwise."

"Assuming we survive whatever's coming for her."

"We will," Finn said with fierce conviction. "All of us, together. That's what family does."

The simple declaration made something settle in Elias. His mate, his family, his community—everything worth protecting was right here in Hollow Oak. Whatever Tobias thought he could take, he was wrong.

They worked through the day with focused intensity, installing upgraded ward stones around key locations and reinforcing the protective barriers that kept the town hidden from human eyes.

Physical labor helped burn off some of Elias's restless energy, but it did nothing to quiet his constant awareness of Kaia's presence across town.

By evening, he found himself gravitating toward the inn like iron drawn to a magnet. Through the warm-lit windows, he could see into the kitchen where Kaia stood beside Twyla, both women covered in flour as they worked over what looked like an industrial-scale baking operation.

"Come in already," Twyla called without looking up. "You're making the customers nervous with all that lurking."

Elias pushed through the kitchen door, immediately enveloped by the scent of cinnamon and sugart.

"Hey," Kaia said, looking up from the mixing bowl she'd been wrestling with. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the ovens, and she had a smudge of flour across her nose that made him want to kiss it away. "How was work?"

"Productive. What's all this?"

"Halloween cookies for the festival," Twyla explained, gesturing toward the dozens of sugar cookies cooling on racks around the kitchen. "Kaia volunteered to help with the decorating, and it turns out she has an artist's touch with royal icing."

"They're beautiful," Elias said, studying the intricate designs Kaia had piped onto the cookies. Delicate autumn leaves, perfect pumpkins, even tiny replicas of Hollow Oak's distinctive buildings.

"Twyla did most of the work," Kaia protested. "I just followed her instructions."

"Nonsense. You've got natural talent." Twyla beamed with maternal pride. "These are going to be the hit of the festival."

Watching them work together, Kaia fitting so naturally into the domestic rhythm of preparation and care, made Elias want her even more.

This was what he wanted for their future—Kaia integrated into every aspect of Hollow Oak life, contributing her unique gifts to the community that had claimed her as one of their own.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"Can you pipe icing without making a mess?" Twyla asked skeptically.

"Probably not."

"Then you can be our official taste-tester," Kaia said with a smile that made his heart skip. "Quality control is very important."

"I take my duties seriously," he said solemnly, accepting the slightly lopsided cookie she offered him.

The sugar cookie was perfect—crisp edges, soft center, and the kind of homemade sweetness that spoke of care and attention to detail. But it was the hopeful way Kaia watched his face while he ate it that made the simple treat taste like heaven.

"Good?" she asked.

"Perfect," he said honestly. "Everything you make is perfect."

The soft smile she gave him in return was worth every moment of restraint his bear was demanding he abandon. This, the easy domesticity, the shared glances, the simple pleasure of being near each other, was what real relationships were built on.

"So," Twyla said with obvious satisfaction, "I'm thinking we need at least three more dozen for the children's booth. Kaia, you up for another round of decorating?"

"Absolutely. This is actually kind of relaxing."

"Good, because we've got pumpkin bread to tackle next, and after that?—"

"Twyla," Elias interrupted gently. "When's the last time either of you ate actual dinner?"

Both women paused, looking at each other with the guilty expressions of people who'd been too focused on their project to notice basic human needs.

"I may have lost track of time," Kaia admitted.

"Right then." Elias moved toward the stove with purpose. "Baking suspended until after you've both had real food. Twyla, you've got leftover beef stew in the freezer, don't you?"

"You don't have to cook for us," Kaia protested.

"I want to." He was already pulling ingredients from the refrigerator, muscle memory guiding him through the familiar motions of preparing a simple meal. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't survive on cookies and coffee until Halloween."

"He's got a point," Twyla said, settling onto a stool with obvious relief. "I may have gotten a little carried away with the baking timeline."

As Elias worked, he was hyperaware of Kaia moving around the kitchen behind him, cleaning up their baking supplies and setting the small table by the window.

The easy way she anticipated what needed to be done, how she moved through the space like she belonged there, made his bear more and more at ease.

This is what we want, his animal consciousness whispered. Her, here, part of our life.

"I know," he murmured quietly. "Soon."

"Did you say something?" Kaia asked, appearing at his elbow with perfect timing.

"Just talking to myself," he said, ladling steaming stew into bowls. "Occupational hazard of spending too much time alone."

"Well, you're not alone anymore," she said softly, her hand brushing his arm in a contact that sent warmth racing through his system.

No, he thought, watching her settle at the table with Twyla, both women chatting easily about festival preparations and cookie decorating techniques. I'm definitely not alone anymore.