Page 101 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
“Marked?” I feel embarrassed. Apparently, I should know what that means. “No, we haven’t... he hasn’t...”
I guess there’s still so much I need to learn about what he is.
“Oh.” She leans back in the booth, the leather creaking. Her coffee cup lands on the saucer with a soft clink. The surprise on her face is unmistakable. “That’s... how are you both managing?”
She drums her fingers on the table, a nervous gesture that reminds me of Beau.
“Chase put a tracker on my car before he marked me.” A rueful laugh escapes her. “Couldn’t handle not knowing where I was every second.”
The casual way she mentions it, like it’s normal behaviour, makes something twist in my stomach.
Jerry shifts under the table, sensing my tension.
“A tracker,” I repeat slowly.
“Mmm.” She takes another sip of coffee, but her eyes stay on me over the rim. “The bond without the mark... it’s intense. Makes them a little crazy.”
“Because…?” I think about Ben alone in his cabin, about the desperation I heard in his voice when he didn’t want to leave. About how I pushed him away anyway, thinking I was doing the right thing.
“Because the mark cements his claim on you. Tells his bear that you’re his completely, and forever. You can feel each other’s emotions. Know what they’re thinking. It makes a bear feel… secure. Complete.”
The coffee shop suddenly feels too warm, too crowded.
“Without it, you’ll both feel… off. Like there’s something missing. It can even hurt.”
Someone drops a plate in the kitchen, the crash making me jump. Jerry whines softly.
“I should go,” I say, already gathering my things. My hands shake slightly as I pull out my wallet. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Natalie’s knowing smile follows me as I stand. “Of course. Take care of yourself, Zara.” I’m almost out the door when she calls after me. “You know, Chase could send someone else to collect Amber’s things… if you wanted…”
The walk back to the apartment is a blur. Jerry stays close to my leg, picking up on my agitation. The city sounds of sirens, car horns, and people shouting, all grate against my nerves. Everything feels wrong.
By the time I reach the apartment, my mind is made up. Jerry watches as I grab my keys from the hook by the door, his tail wagging.
“Ready for a drive, boy?”
45
BEN
The truck rattles over the last stretch of mountain road, every bump sending fresh aches through my exhausted body. I ran my bear ragged, charging through the forest to the point of exhaustion, while Maddox handled watching our wayward target on her romantic dates and securing whatever evidence he needed to make his client’s case watertight.
“I still can’t believe you ate that gas station burrito,” he says from the backseat, for the tenth time today. “Even I have standards.”
“It was that or starve,” I mutter. “Not all of us packed a week’s worth of jerky.”
“That’s because some of us think ahead,” Maddox says smugly, “instead of running off, half-cocked, into the wilderness.”
The banter has been like this for the last two days, my brother trying to keep my spirits up, to distract me from the ache in my chest that no amount of physical exhaustion could cure. It worked mostly. During the day, we were moving, tracking, planning. But at night, my bear would pace and whine.
“So... I’m thinking we share the actual work next time,” Maddox mumbles. “The whole point of bringing you was to…”
His words fade into background noise as something catches my eye ahead.
Jerry.
My dog is sprinting down the dirt road toward us, grey and white fur rippling in the afternoon sun. My chest tightens painfully. I sent him with Zara to keep her safe. If he’s here alone...
