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Bear You Belong (Griz Mountain Shifters Book 1), page 1

 

Bear You Belong (Griz Mountain Shifters Book 1)
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Bear You Belong (Griz Mountain Shifters Book 1)


  These bear shifters have one rule: The first to mate becomes alpha. Let the best man win.

  Asher isn’t looking for a mate. He’s fine alone in his mountain cabin, at the edges of his bear clan’s land. His unusual shifter qualities have made him an outcast, and he has no expectations that any female would want his company. So when a wounded wolf shifter lands on his doorstep one snowy night, he can’t help but wonder if fate is playing a cruel joke. Because one look and he knows…

  She is his to care for. His to protect. His to prove himself to.

  Brioni is different than what he’s used to. She doesn’t judge him and even likes his rough voice. But she’s on the run from an abusive past and has enough secrets to pack his one bed cabin. She is all he’s ever craved, but claiming her might end in the biggest fight of his life… a battle against his inner doubts.

  Bear You Belong

  GRIZ MOUNTAIN SHIFTERS

  Book One

  By P. Jameson

  Website | Facebook | Newsletter

  Bear You Belong

  Copyright © 2023 by P. Jameson

  First electronic publication: March 2023

  United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, redistributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database, without prior written permission from the author, with the exception of brief quotations contained in critical reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this work may be scanned, uploaded, or otherwise distributed via the internet or any other means, including electronic or print without the author’s written permission.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Design/Formatting: Agent X

  P. Jameson

  www.pjamesonbooks.com

  Other books by P. Jameson

  Firecats (Alley Cats)

  All is Bright (Prequel)

  Series

  Apex Mountain Shifters

  Series

  Ouachita Mountain Shifters

  Series

  Dirt Track Dogs

  Series

  Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap

  Series

  Ozark Mountain Shifters

  Series

  Sci-fi Fantasy Romance

  Starwalker (Amazon)

  Writing as Penn Rivers

  Amazon

  ***

  Stay up to date with all P. Jameson news!

  To join the New Release Newsletter click HERE (or copy/paste this link to your browser: http://eepurl.com/3s00L ). And be sure to follow the Amazon page HERE.

  Chapter One

  Brioni Michaels ran like only a wolf shifter could. Like only a woman who feared for her life could.

  She’d been running for so long, but it still wasn’t safe to stop. Maybe it never would be. Maybe there wasn’t a place on earth where she would ever feel safe.

  No, don’t think like that, her inner wolf scolded. That bastard’s reach isn’t that impressive.

  But it sure seemed so when he was putting his hands on her. She should’ve fought back when she could, instead of trying to reason with him.

  You couldn’t reason with a shifter male like Lucas Muller.

  Forget him. Run.

  Night bled into morning, and then morning into noon. She stuck to the deepest wooded areas to avoid any human contact, her wolf pushing her to go faster, farther.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  A new morning was pushing back darkness and she somehow still found the strength to run.

  Because if she couldn’t get far enough away, all the shit she’d been through would be for nothing.

  The lies, the pain.

  The betrayal.

  When her paws were bloody nubs, she thought of the family she left behind on Apex Mountain. Her father and brother—and the horrible, unending feud they had with the Muller grasshopper shifter pod.

  This would hurt them. They would mourn her.

  But it was better than them being dead. Because that’s what could happen if they found out why she ran.

  Dead to you, but alive and well, her wolf reminded.

  It would have to be enough.

  All that was behind her now, and growing fainter with each mile. It had to be.

  Apex Mountain.

  Her family and friends.

  Her life as she knew it was over and whatever she found on this path before her would be her new life.

  She just hoped she chose better this time.

  If she survived these woods, that is.

  Hours passed, and miles loped away until the sun was kissing the horizon of jagged mountain peaks once again.

  She didn’t know how far she’d run or if it was even safe to stop. She only knew that her head was foggy with exhaustion and her body ached worse than it ever had.

  These woods smelled different than the ones back home. They smelled of maple and sweet fir rather than aspen and juniper.

  Up ahead, she thought she saw a building of some sort, dark and tucked back in the trees. But she couldn’t be sure.

  She headed for it anyway, desperately needing a place to shift and recover. Bonus points if it had running water. Or even better, heat.

  Her head spun as she staggered forward, struggling to keep her eyes open.

  Almost there.

  Not going to last, her wolf warned as her vision flickered. Find shelter. Brush. Something. A tree even, to hide behind.

  The cabin would be better. And… she was almost there. A tree wouldn’t shield her enough. Not like a building would. Too exposed, her animal agreed.

  She pushed herself another step. Then another, swaying off track but so close to the little covered porch that she could almost taste it.

  Just… one more… step…

  She used the last of her strength trying to shift, and her vision went black for the final time, as her paws—not feet, damn it—hit the jagged boards in front of the door.

  Black, as she reached aimlessly for the door handle.

  Black… as she faded away, completely and utterly exposed.

  Was this how she died? Frozen and exhausted at the door of some abandoned cabin? Is this what she left home for, to end in ruin here in a strange territory?

  No, her animal murmured. We left to protect ours.

  Her brother, her family… they were safe because of this.

  Safe.

  That was her last thought before there was blissful nothing.

  Chapter Two

  Asher Henry paused stirring the small pot of soup he was reheating, instincts instantly on alert. That was a definite thump he’d heard just outside his cabin door. Too loud to be someone throwing snowballs.

  “Who would do that anyway, dumbass?” he muttered to himself.

  Not Altyn or West. They didn’t come within ten feet of him, not to mention his place. They thought he was a freak.

  You are a freak, his inner beast reminded.

  “True.” He sighed, dropping the metal spoon into the empty soup can he’d yet to toss in the garbage.

  Hawthorn was also a no. Too damn grouchy to throw a snowball. And he hated snow in general. No way would he take the time to actually turn it into a ball and chuck it at Asher’s door… even if he did hate him.

  It wasn’t a snowball though. It was more substantial. Like a body hitting the ground.

  This close to Christmas, he could imagine it was fucking Santa falling off his roof maybe, but the thud wasn’t heavy enough for the jolly fat man. And the eerie silence afterward gave Asher chills.

  Something is wrong, his animal warned.

  He turned the burner off and set the soup aside so he could investigate.

  Peeking out the windows did him no good. The only light was that which came from the moon above, and even though he was a shifter, his eyesight was a unique problem none of the others in his group dealt with.

  Squinting, he caught the barest hint of tracks leading to his front door. Nothing he could identify. Only small divots in the snow that would be covered within the hour.

  Not bears, he noted.

  Curious, he cracked the door, ignoring the snow that streamed in. But what he saw at his stoop was nothing he could’ve anticipated.

  There on the wood plank steps, lay a partially shifted female, her upper half bare human flesh, while her legs remained those of an animal. Something fur covered, with paws. Perhaps a wolf, if his scenting skills could be relied upon.

  Crouching, he pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. When the thump of her heartbeat registered, Asher sprang into action, gathering her cold body into his arms to pull her inside the cabin.

  Save her, his animal ordered.

  As if there was any question about it. Of course he would save her. He didn’t know exactly what she was, but it didn’t matter. A female was at his door, in need. He wouldn’t turn her away.

  He wasn’t the monster his people thought he was.

  Her weight in his arms was unfamiliar. He hadn’t been this close to a female since his mother abandoned him at the tree farm just after puberty when he had his first shift. And he’d certainly never… held one.

  Not to mention a mostly naked one.

  His eyes fell to the female’s bare chest, unabl

e to miss the pebbled pink tips of her full breasts. He found himself scenting her deeper to learn if she carried the mark of a mate. There was no trace of a male’s mark on her.

  Not that he should care.

  There was only the unique scent of… well, she smelled sweet. Like sugar cookies. And a hint of something warm, like cinnamon.

  She smelled like Christmas.

  Like a Christmas he didn’t dread. One where he felt at home instead of…

  Asher averted his gaze from her breasts. They weren’t his to look upon, and he would do his best to maintain her privacy until she could see to it herself.

  That’s what a noble male would do.

  His cabin was small, with only one big room and a bathroom. His bed took up one corner, and he carried her there on instinct. Laying her carefully on the mattress, he let his gaze roam her body, looking for obvious injuries.

  Avoiding her breasts, of course. Those were perfectly fine.

  Perfectly. Uh… fine.

  Her animal’s paws were worn and raw in some places. As if she’d been running a long distance. Her middle was marked with small cuts and emerging bruises. Maybe from brush? Her hands were similarly marred. Nails broken, traces of dried blood, bruising along her wrists. Bruising that looked mysteriously like she’d been bound.

  Anger flared inside him.

  “What happened to you, female?”

  Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and he willed them to open. Willed her broken, bloody lips to murmur. But nothing came.

  Breath.

  Breath came, and it was the only thing that kept his panic at bay.

  Save her.

  He could do that. As long as there was breath and a heartbeat, he could help her.

  Grabbing the flannel quilt that stayed mostly bunched near the foot of the bed, he quickly covered the strange female, tucking it around her tightly.

  She shivered, and he went still, waiting for her to wake. But she didn’t.

  Was she warm enough like this?

  It wasn’t normal for her to be mid-shift even if she’d passed out. Her animal should’ve been able to protect her against the elements, so why didn’t it?

  Something had gone very wrong.

  “It’s okay, female,” he murmured. “I will protect you until your beast is able.”

  Working quickly, he pushed the armchair against the wall and moved the entire bed with her on it so that it was closer to the woodstove.

  There. That should keep her warm so her body could heal.

  Asher lowered himself to the floor beside the bed. He’d keep watch. Keep the fire hot. In the morning, he’d get answers.

  And hopefully… well, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to ask for help.

  He didn’t like asking the others for things. But for a hurt female, he would.

  Because she’d come to his door.

  His door, in the middle of nowhere.

  Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

  Then again, maybe it did.

  Chapter Three

  When the barest hints of sunlight peeked through the shutters, Asher rose again to stoke the fire.

  Throughout the night, the female had been restless, even crying out as if in pain. At one point, her cries became so bad that he’d decided to go for help. But as he’d taken her hand, whispering that he would return… she settled again.

  At his touch, she settled. It had surprised him as much as it satisfied him.

  After that, he was afraid to leave her.

  Afraid to leave her.

  He scowled at the glowing embers as he stirred, and then dropped a new log on top.

  He wasn’t afraid of anything until she arrived at his doorstep. Not his people, not the elements. Not living alone on the side of a mountain.

  Lies, his beast rumbled. You fear your differences.

  “Shut up.”

  The female whimpered, drawing his attention back to the bed. He hated that she was hurting. Now that morning was here and she still wasn’t waking, it was time to do something about it.

  Her animal needs more rest, his beast murmured. Not strong enough to help her yet.

  Asher began gathering supplies. Warm water from the sink, a soft cloth, antiseptic, ointment. From his dresser, a warm sweater—it would be long enough to cover her waist—and thick socks for when she’d fully shifted. Then finally, something to ease her pain.

  He didn’t have medicine on hand. With his beast, he didn’t need it. But he did have an abundance of whiskey, and a small supply of peppermint tea that he sipped when he found it hard to sleep.

  He would make her a drink. Surely he could spoon some down her throat even if she didn’t wake.

  After setting the pot to boil, he carried the supplies to the bed.

  Staring down at her, he tried not to notice how pretty she was.

  Her auburn hair was long enough to stretch down her back, and even tangled, it now spread across his pillow in a way that made his heart pound behind his ribs. Long lashes rested along her lightly freckled cheeks framing a tiny, kissable nose. And her full lips were bruised, sure, but once healed, he could imagine how sweetly they would smile.

  Tentatively, he eased the blanket down, exposing her hurt body again.

  She wasn’t frail. Healthy curves filled out her short frame, and—

  Oh. She’d finished shifting in the night.

  A tattoo-like shifter mark had appeared across her chest. Similar to his own. Shimmering and pale, but instead of claw slashes, the delicate face of a wolf sat just along her right collarbone.

  Pretty wolf.

  That wasn’t the only change. No more animal-like lower legs. Now she was all thick, smooth thighs that tapered down to tiny feet. And at the juncture of those thighs…

  Asher’s mouth went dry as the Sahara. His chest rumbled with the stirring of his beast.

  Mine.

  The thought alarmed him. Derailed his entire line of thinking.

  He’d never had a mind for mating since he was so… different. He wasn’t like the other bear shifters he grouped with.

  Not good with people like Altyn and West.

  Not good with words like Hawthorn.

  Mating made sense for them, though none of them had found theirs yet. If they had, Asher might’ve already been tossed off the farm and sent to roam.

  None of them are alpha, his beast reminded. Not yet.

  Even though the four of them were a grouping, along with several young who’d been left by their mothers over the years, they weren’t a real clan. They couldn’t be.

  Because bear shifters had a rule: the first to mate becomes leader. Until then they were considered feral. Clanless. Without direction. Without stability.

  And it showed.

  They were always at each other’s throats. Brawling was a regular occurrence. None of them ate right or slept well. Honestly, it was a damn miracle they were able to come together and run the Christmas tree farm enough to get by.

  “We manage,” Asher muttered, and the female stirred again, her brow furrowing as a new whimper escaped her throat.

  Be quiet, asshole. His beast bristled. You’re disturbing her.

  No, a male like him wasn’t good for mating, but he could definitely take care of her now.

  Now and also, later.

  Even if her body stirred longing within him like he’d never experienced before.

  See to her needs, his beast encouraged.

  Wash her first, then apply ointment where needed. He could do this.

  Determined, he dunked the cloth into the warm water and wrung it dry again, hoping as he began to wash the mud from her face, that she wouldn’t be too angry with him when she woke.

  Because all he needed was a pretty little female to add to the number of people who despised him.

  Except she was different than the others, wasn’t she? Because the mere idea of earning her ire left Asher feeling distraught.

  Mine, his beast claimed again. She will be different. Wait and see.

  ***

  Brioni struggled to find consciousness, sifting through the unending blackness in search of any light to hold onto.

  But there was nothing.

 

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