Page 1 of His Stubborn Mate

Chapter One

Rance

Reykjavik, Iceland

Six Months Ago

Terrance “Rance” Manville, known during his time at NLGP as Terry, the security guard, watched the live feed as Kam Perkins met her end.

“I don’t want to die. Find a way out,” said Kam, her voice tinged with fear.

“There is no way,” said one of the goons, who seemed to have given up the notion of surviving the Resistance assault on the NLGP compound.

“There has to be,” said Kam, her voice now edged with fear and panic.

“There isn’t. The exits are sealed. They are imploding, and the thudding you hear is the collapse of the tunnel leading in here. We only have moments before we die. I suggest you make whatever peace you can with whatever demon spat you out of Hell. None of us is making it out alive.”

“I can’t die. They promised me I would become one of them—that they would turn me into an apex predator.”

The thudding got louder, and the other goon was already lying on the floor, twitching in his death throes. The one who’d been speaking to Kam bit down on something, and foam started to come out of the corner of his mouth as his knees buckled and he landed on them.

Kam rushed to him, prying open his jaws. “What did you take? What’s happening?”

“Suicide pill. I’ll be gone before this whole thing collapses in on you. If you’re lucky, it will kill you instantly; if not, you’ll be buried alive and die a slow, torturous death.”

“No!” Kam howled. “I don’t want to die! They didn’t give me anything like that pill.”

The goon looked up at her, the veil of civility leaving his eyes as he smiled. “Sucks to be you.”

Kam screeched as he keeled over, and the thudding sound became a sound of thunder as smoke and debris began to be expelled into the small cavern into which they’d run—pieces of it making random strikes on Kam’s body as she tried to protect herself from them.

“No! I don’t want to die!”

Over and over, she wailed. The walls of the last remaining cavity of NLGP’s tunnel system began to crumble, and the ceiling began to lose its structure and cohesion. The last anyone ever saw of Dr. Kam Perkins was her screaming and raising her arms over her head in a futile act of trying to avoid her end. She was not successful.

When he was sure she was gone, Rance signed out for the last time and headed to what he had come to believe was the promised land—Kodiak Island and a job as the lone park ranger at the Frostbark Park Ranger Station. The deep cover assignment at the NLGP lab outside of Reykjavik had proved to be far longer and more involved than he ever could have imagined when he’d agreed to go.

But it was over now, and he could go home.

Frostbark Forest

Kodiak Island, Alaska

Present Day

Rance's breath formed thick, visible clouds in the frosty air as he sprinted through the dense forest, his powerful legs covering the ground in long, effortless strides. The snow beneath his massive paws crunched rhythmically, the sound blending with the rustle of the wind through the trees. Each breath he took was sharp and invigorating, filling his lungs with the icy purity of the Alaskan wilderness. It was a sensation that reminded him he was alive, that his heart still beat with the pulse of an ancient predator.

Kodiak Island was more than just his territory—it was his sanctuary, a place where the modern world felt as distant as the stars in the clear, cold sky above. The mountains towered around him, their jagged peaks untouched by time or man, and in their shadow, Rance felt an unshakeable connection to the wild. Here, he was truly himself—unbound, untamed.

But tonight, something was different. The night held a charge that was unusual, even for these remote, untamed lands. Rance felt it in the air, a tingling on his skin that had nothing to do with the cold. His instincts were heightened, the beast within him restless and alert.

As he ran, his thoughts flickered between the present and the past, memories blending with the here and now. His kind had roamed these lands for millennia, long before humans ever set foot on them. The connection he felt to this place was more than just primal instinct; it was in his blood, his bones, his very soul.

His kind was thought to have long been extinct. The Arctotherium was known as either the “titan bear’ or the ‘arctic beast.” But those who thought so were wrong. The purebreds of their kind had been wiped out, but the shifters remained. Towering over the tallest of men, they were creatures of raw power and ancient lineage, but few of them remained. They were a colossus of fur and muscle—their bodies a fortress of sinew and bone draped in a dense, coarse coat of rich browns, dark grays, and hints of auburn. Their natural camouflage allowed them to blend seamlessly with the shadowy forests and rocky plains they had once called home. This natural coloring, however, did little to conceal the sheer enormity of the creature.

Despite his size, Rance moved with a grace that defied his bulk. Each step was deliberate, almost silent, as if the earth itself yielded to his passage. When he moved, the ground trembled, but not with the thunderous stomps of a clumsy giant—rather, with the controlled, measured tread of a predator that knows it has nothing to fear.

In the dim light of dusk, Rance was a shadow that could blot out the sun, a looming silhouette that sent every other creature scurrying for cover. Rance’s Arctotherium was not just a bear; he was a force of nature, an embodiment of the untamed wilderness that once ruled the earth. He was a living, breathing relic of a time when giants walked the earth, and nature's fury was unchecked by the hand of man.

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