Page 1 of Wooded Bliss (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

THATCHER

Looking up into the canopy of the trees, I search for the peace I always seem to be seeking. It’s been this way for the last ten years. Solace has become illusive. The ache in my chest, the missing of such a big part of myself, isn’t something I’ve been able to move past or push aside, no matter how much I’ve tried.

Without thinking about it, I reach up and rub my chest right where my heart is beating. Each beat feels lackluster with such a big part of my heart, past, and family missing. Shouldn’t I have been able to move past this loss by now?

Our parents had so much life left to live, but they were killed by hunters out for the thrill of the hunt. Nothing was the same after their deaths. There have been so many moments they missed out on when it comes to me and my brothers.

My youngest brother, Grady, was only 12 at the time and Wylie, the second youngest when it comes to the Bosch brothers, was 17. They should have had so much more time with our parents.

In the last ten years, they missed out on both of them graduating and becoming men I’m proud to know. I can’t help but wonder how different they would be if our parents hadn’t been taken from us.

The death of our parents set a lot in motion and we’re still feeling the ripples of their death every day. I can’t think about it for too long or else I’ll walk into the woods, shift into my bear, and never turn back.

“You can’t run away from our brothers,” my bear huffs, frustration in his voice even though it’s tinged in the same sadness I always feel. “Maybe if we found our mate.”

“No, I’ll never leave our brothers,” I agree with him while ignoring his feelings about finding our mate.

My bear has wanted to find our other half since we turned 18, but then only a year later I was dealing with the sudden death of my parents, and a mate was the last thing on my mind. Now, I don’t think finding her is in the cards for me.

I’m okay with it. Finding love, having another person relying on me, while knowing how fragile life can be, terrifies me.

It’s a shame since my parents were an amazing example of mates, and the love shared between them was beautiful to witness. I wanted to find the same thing they had when I was growing up. Now I know that my mate would just be another person to lose, another person with the power to rip my heart out.

If, of course, I was to even find my mate. Often bears of a certain age leave their home packs to travel and find their mates, but I didn’t get that chance. I could have gone when I turned 18, but I kept putting it off and then tragedy struck.

There was no way I was going to leave my brothers to deal with the fall-out of our parents’ death. Everything fell on my eldest brother’s shoulders and leaving it all on Ripp wouldn’t have been fair. He might have already been training under our father to take over as Alpha of our pack, but he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to be thrown into the role in the wake of losing both of our parents.

Their deaths were just the start to everything falling apart.

Pushing aside the memories isn’t easy, but taking a deep breath helps. A little. Very little.

As I head deeper into the woods surrounding our homes, I catch a few scents on the wind. My bear perks up and takes notice of the scent of my brothers. I’m not surprised considering how much time we spend roaming the forest. Nature has become a distraction from the pain, especially for me.

“I smell someone else, too,” my bear growls, “not just our brothers.”

Our hackles raise and I move toward the scents with more purpose. It’s unusual for us to get people on our land. When it does happen, it’s usually a hiker who has traveled too far off one of the trails surrounding Whispering Pines. The majority of them are on the other side of town, but it’s not like I can blame someone for wanting to traipse through our woods.

It’s beautiful here.

The woods are what has kept me here instead of following the call of my bear and leaving. Well, the forest, the memories of my parents, and the love I have for my brothers.

My bear huffs, “You don’t want to leave me to my own devices because you know I’d start to hunt for our mate.”

I smirk because he’s not wrong. I’m just thankful fate hasn’t seen to it to put my mate in my path up to this point.

My gut knots as I step into a familiar clearing. This is where we used to have meetings when the entire pack was required to attend. It’s also where bears shifted for the first time and mating ceremonies took place.

I can feel the weight of loss pressing against my chest, but I ignore it because of the sight in front of me.

Ripp and Grady are standing in front of a woman while only wearing basketball shorts. Wylie is letting out a low growl while the brown fur on his large bear stands on end. His lips are pulled back with his sharp teeth on full display.

When I look at the woman, I’m surprised at how calm she looks. I wouldn’t think meeting a giant bear is normal for most people, but she looks almost bored and definitely not scared. She sure as hell isn’t shocked to see a snarling bear standing side by side with two men who are only wearing shorts.

Talk about a scene the average person wouldn’t come across.

Which means she’s not average.

As I take a few steps closer, the woman’s gaze shifts, and her eyes meet mine. When my bear only chuffs in response, I let out a sigh of relief. She’s not my mate.

The bits of her scent I was getting on the wind wasn’t setting my bear off, but scent isn’t the only thing needed for the mate bond to snap into place. Eye contact is required as well. It’s like the scent is the lock and eye contact is the key. Then everything snaps into place.

At least that’s how my parents explained it to me when we were growing up.

The ache is back and pulsing in the middle of my chest. I clench my jaw and try to push the feeling aside. The way the woman’s eyes soften as she looks at me makes me think she knows exactly what I’m feeling. But it’s not possible.

Right.

The moment I step next to Ripp, flanking our Alpha even if our pack pales in comparison to what it used to be, the woman’s scent slams into me.

My mouth drops open before my voice comes out as more of a hiss, “Witch.”

The woman’s shoulders slump and disappointment fills her eyes, as if she’s upset with my reaction. As I glance at my brothers, I realize I wasn’t the only one to react this way.

But can we really be blamed for it?

Witches have a place within the supernatural community, but it doesn’t involve being involved with shifters. There’s a level of distrust there which goes back centuries. Normally, witches stay far away from bears, but the feelings wolves have for witches are even worse from what I’ve heard.

“What are you doing here, witch?” Ripp’s growled question has me looking at him and wondering what is going on with him.

Sure, he’s a broody bastard, but he’s not usually so quick to anger and his voice is filled with pure, unaltered rage. The last time I heard him this pissed was years ago.

The woman sighs, her shoulders dropping and her face smoothing out as if she’s trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “It might not make a lot of sense,” her voice is soft and soothing in a way that makes me wonder if she’s weaving some sort of spell around us, “but I was called here.”

Grady snorts, “Called here? What does that even mean?”

My bear stills as if he’s waiting for her next words even though I don’t understand why. Over the years I’ve learned to listen to the instincts of my bear. He would prefer I spend more time in Whispering Pines instead of staying out in the woods, which is one thing I don’t bend to him on. I think he just wants to up the chances of us finding our mate, something I’ll continue to avoid.

“We need our mate,” he softly chuffs, but it’s clear his focus is still on the witch in front of us.

She gives Grady an indulgent smile and I almost chuckle because it is a feeling I often have toward our youngest brother.

“I should back up,” she begins and shakes her head admonishingly, more at herself than us.

Wylie sits down on his huge bear ass, letting out a huff filled with annoyance. If he was in human form, I know he’d be rolling his eyes right now. Ripp stands at his full height and crosses his arms across his chest.

There isn’t a hint of amusement in Ripp’s voice as he snarks, “Probably a good idea.”

“My name is Circe. As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a witch.” Wylie growls and Circe cuts her eyes toward him. “I promise I’m not here to do you any harm.”

“Can you prove that?” Ripp’s growled question is filled with sarcasm and disbelief.

“No,” Circe fires back with a shake of her head, “this is something you’re going to have to take on faith.”

I snort, “Faith?”

Ripp glances my way and his eyes soften. Like me, he’s had a hard time in the last ten years with keeping the faith. Faith in the Moon Goddess. Faith in the power of being part of a strong pack. Faith in how important the mate bond is. Faith in the nature surrounding us.

My bear tries to stand strong in the face of my uncertainty, disbelief, and the loss of my faith. But he’s just a bear.

“Watch it, my human. I can torture you in ways you’ve never imagined,” he warns.

When I look back up, Circe is studying me intently. Her head is tilted to the side and the way she’s looking at me makes me want to take a step back, even though I refuse to give into the inclination. There’s no way I’ll show weakness in front a stranger, and a witch no less.

“I can feel the pain coming from the four of you,” she might be speaking about everyone, but she continues to look right at me, “and that the tragedy you’ve endured has tarnished your faith. Believe me, it is not broken. It can be repaired.”

I narrow my eyes, but it’s Ripp who speaks up. His tone is filled with derision, “What do you know about pain or what we’ve gone through?”

Circe’s gaze snaps to him and she frowns slightly as her eyebrows pull together. Sadness sweeps across her features, but it’s gone so fast that I’m not entirely sure it was there at all.

“I don’t know what you have endured,” her voice is soft and soothing. “What I do know is I felt a pull to come here and have seen firsthand the power of the mate bond and how it can transcend pain, loss, and the lines between supernaturals and humans.”

When I scoff, Circe gives me a look filled with a haughty knowing which sets my teeth on edge. “She’s not wrong,” my bear growls. “Need mate.”

I roll my eyes internally. Do I have a bear spirit inside of me or a broken record? The jury is out on that one. My bear only responds with a low, rolling growl.

Ripp’s voice is wary, “What do you know about mate bonds?”

Circe shrugs one shoulder and looks over Ripp as if she doesn’t truly see him. It’s kind of strange and has my hackles rising, but when she looks at me again, my stomach drops. “My sister is very happily mated to a warrior in the Blood Rising Pack.”

“Good pack. Good wolves,” my bear growls and I feel how impressed he is.

“Before you start to question me, they’re fated mates,” Circe adds, her voice insistent.

“What does that have to do with why you’re here?” Ripp’s voice is a dark growl, “We’re not exactly a wolf pack.”

Circe doesn’t seem deterred by Ripp’s attitude in the least. “All I know is I felt the need to come here. First, I made it to Whispering Pines and then I felt the need to walk into the woods. I don’t know exactly why or what my purpose here is, but whenever I think of the mate bond and you four bears, I feel a sense of peace.”

Wylie’s bear chuffs, but I’m not sure if it’s a sound of hope or indignation. Grady looks giddy and I swear he’s a second away from rubbing his hands together with glee.

Me?

I turn away and stomp back toward the cabin I’ve taken over as mine. Whatever Circe is offering, whatever brought her to us and our very sad Bosch pack, which only consists of four now, I want nothing to do with it.

Today has been a long reminder of loss and what I’ll never have. All I want now is a beer and a rare steak.