Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Bear’s Arranged Mate Chapter 2

Elva

What an absolute circus.

Blake must have been losing it or something. That new mate of his probably had his head screwed on backward. That's what happens when you suddenly go from getting zero tail to having it available every single night. Had I heard all the rumors about our alpha's body count? Totally. I endorsed them, too. Everybody needs a slut phase. I could attest to the benefits of that.

But my whorish reign was quickly coming to a jagged stop.

Because my alpha said so.

And that was probably worse than getting rejected by any choice of hot guys in the vicinity.

I was being forced off the market. What kind of life would that be for a woman like me? I needed action. I needed passion.

I needed a man who wasn't going to tick me off every five frickin' seconds.

My arms instinctively crossed over my chest as I checked my appearance in the mirror. The only nice thing I owned that wasn't black was a strappy charcoal cocktail dress that was so short it was dangerous to bend over.

One of my favorite pieces for weddings. Always a good gauge to see if a guy was as excited to get married as his partner. Worked like a charm.

Up until now, I thought.

My brain ticked away the seconds left before dusk. Already, the rosy hues of sunset were barreling through my wide-open windows. A hot breeze floated over the sill.

I huffed and shrugged into myself, pouting at my reflection with a piercing glare.

Any harder and I would have shattered the glass to pieces.

This was stupid. This was useless. Why did I have to mate with a guy who always wanted to argue with me? It was like he went out of his way just to get a word in with me-no matter what the hour or the scenery. Private, public-didn't matter to Jermaine. He was just a grumpy old jerk with a mean mug and a scowl that would send anyone running.

Next to me, he would just cramp up my style. It wasn't like me to settle, especially not with a shifter like Jermaine. Especially not with a bear. They were too temperamental and jealous. It would be difficult to sleep around with the two of us fighting all the time. I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't cheat. I'm not that kind of girl.

My gaze settled on my reflection again. Curvaceous hips tapered to perfectly shaved legs and stiletto high heels with diamond buckles. Fake diamonds, of course. A woman like me wasn't keen on the fancy stuff. Just the bargain bin stuff that hadn't been worn too much. And these had been a total steal.

That reminds me to check the bins after practice this Friday, I considered. If my new husband will allow it.

The thought of Jermaine dictating any of my choices made my eyes roll all the way to the coast and back. He could certainly try to say something to me. I wasn't unreasonable about agreements, but I also wasn't a pushover. If he thought for one frickin' second that I was going to get into bed with him and only him, then he had another thing coming.

And my foot square up his-

Two distinct knocks rattled the front door. Two more knocks followed a brief pause. I swung around to face my doorway, listening intently to whoever was breathing raggedly on my porch.

A deep breath expanded my upper body. It forced me to drop my arms and close my eyes. It inspired my muscles to relax.

Wet earth with hints of aloe. That was different. I hadn't ever scented such a thing in my life. While I had noticed those two scents separately on different occasions, together they created something entirely brand new. Petrichor with a healing touch-that was what came to mind.

Another knock blasted right through my zen zone.

With the third eye roll of the same ten minutes, I snatched my clutch from the bed and marched through the living room. Lucky that I didn't have a roommate to see me stomping to the front door like the brattiest sub in the world.

More of that scent invaded my brain. It confused me. As much as I wanted to relax, I also wanted to tantrum my way through the evening. The conflict alone made me want to rip out my newly-dyed orange hair. Lenny had just gotten the color right. It was perfect. They were so talented at setting me aflame just like the coat of my tiger form.

But right now, it was less tiger orange and more fury.

My claws were coming out. I could feel them.

I whipped open the door, cutting off another invasive knock.

All five feet of me stood at attention, barking, "What! What do you want?"

And there stood a dumbstruck bear shifter with his hand hanging in the air where the wood of the door had once stood. Fuzzy scruff decorated his tan face. Thick curls of earthy brown sprouted from his head, a mess of them raining around his ears. While it was buzzed to perfection underneath, the rest was a tousled riot that somehow appeared softer with rays of sunlight sifting through the strands. Once-brown chestnut fields lit up with hues of honey and amber.

Hazelnut eyes peered down at me from a ridiculous height. Being short wasn't new to me. But being short in heels? That was simply offensive. And Jermaine was making me regret the fact that I was paired with his gargantuan height of a human form. His massive chest billowed with a breath. And then another breath. Each inhalation stretched taut the Army-green t-shirt he wore tucked into the waistband of his black jeans. Rich tones of bark and chocolate echoed in his eyes, pooled with illuminating drops of

sun.

Confusion. Admission of interruption. Then, a stern frown.

Yep, we were about to argue.

I stood as tall as I possibly could. I squared my shoulders. I narrowed my eyes up at him, trying to drill them through him like twin lasers. Some kind of silent understanding passed between us-that this would be the last moment we faced each other as separate beings. Once we entered that circle with our elders, we would become one.

In body and spirit.

In mind and animal form.

Our lives would forever be entwined.

Which was why it made zero sense to me that our alpha saw fit to shove us together like opposing elements.

I was the Pop Rocks to his Pepsi. Neither of us would survive. The pack would suffer, too. Was this their idea of a union? To force two shifters together who were always at odds?

Jermaine sucked air into his lungs and released it slowly. He reached into his pocket. He pulled out a wilted flower.

My eyelids couldn't have stuttered any harder. "Are you...serious?"

"What?" He held out the poor daisy that was missing a petal. Or five. The stem bent at an odd angle. "I just figured...I just thought..."

I held up a hand. "Maybe you shouldn't think."

"Easy for you to say when it's something you never do."

I squinted at him. "Don't start."

"You're the one who started."

"And I'll finish it, too."

Another height check. A little shoulder wiggle. We were truly facing each other down, staring until one of us made a move.

Gods, what would he do if I kissed him right now?

I dropped to my usual height. Well, usual for heels at the very least.

Did I really just consider kissing Jermaine Ryan? Electricity struck my heart. That's weird. It must be the ritual thing. Why else would I think about that?

Well, it wasn't like it was the first time I had thought about it.

Sometimes, with men like Jermaine and women like me, our passions overlapped. What felt like arguing sometimes turned into something much more. It was the heat of the situation that usually did it. Hearts racing, blood pumping, and that sort of warmth flushing all the secret places that usually get that sort of attention.

Fight or flight.

Or f**k.

I gulped. "You ready to go?"

He dropped back on his heels, causing the porch to quake. It sounded like the boards were going to snap. That was all good and well. I wasn't going to be the one repairing this place when I moved out.

Assuming I did move out.

I narrowed my eyes. Why isn't he the one who has to move?

Jermaine didn't move. He didn't seem to blink either.

I pushed past him. "Fine by me."

Zap.

I clutched my shoulder while dropping down the short set of steps, pretending like something hadn't sparked when my shoulder touched his. It was the barest of touches. It wasn't even close enough to be considered a brush. We hardly made contact at all. Yet it felt like we had touched a million times in that half-a-second span.

I shook my head. What's wrong with me? Is it the fight or flight thing again?

I ignored the last word I wanted to think.

"Come on," I called over my shoulder as I swung my hips. "We're going to be late."

"Don't you love being late?" It sounded like more of a teasing jab that an actual stab at an argument.

I could get used to that. "Sure."

Scampering footsteps. A rock skittering off into the grass. Doors opening and closing.

We were being watched. Closely.

It hadn't gone over my head how interested everyone was in seeing whether or not we would succeed as a couple. As opponents, we were gifted at debate, creating more entertainment than Judge Judy and Maury combined. It was like our very own reality show smack in the middle of the ranch.

Of course they were invested. So was I. Everything about Jermaine annoyed and intrigued me. There was so much dirt to dig up.

I couldn't wait to find out more.

His footsteps lagged. I cocked my ear toward him. "Bear got your tongue?"

"Nope. Just my eyes."

"Your eyes?" I swiveled around, hardly missing a beat in my stride as I began walking backward. "Are you checking me out?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. What could have been mistaken for judgment looked to me more like devilish intrigue.

He had been checking me out. And why not? My ass was practically dropping out the back of this dress.

I tilted my chin toward the sky. "It's the only nice thing I own."

He gestured to his body. "Same."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"That makes two of us."

My right eyebrow shot through the clouds. "Are we agreeing on something?"

We both stopped at the same time. A cloud of dust sputtered past us. Three leaves danced near my stilettos, barely drawing my peripheral attention. Every single one of my senses bloomed open, steadily imbibing whatever Jermaine was shooting in my direction. Which was less disdain and more...

Is he smiling at me?

Oh gods, that didn't bode well. Jermaine rarely smiled when someone cracked a joke. Even rarer was his laugh.

Yet sitting on his face now was a jubilant grin that could have fended off enough enemy packs to protect us for years. It was nearly sinister in nature, a crooked streak that split his mouth.

Pearly white teeth appeared. Pointed canine teeth. The tip of his tongue floated over the right canine, sending a shiver through my core. When the wind picked up again, my hair fluffed and my dangling silver earrings tickled my neck.

I brushed my shoulder and flipped around. "Right, well-late and all."

"Fashionably late. How you like it."

"You don't know what I like."

He hmphed, or whatever sound bears made when they were trying to show out and then he caught up to me. "I'd like to know what you like."

"You'd like that?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

I turned away, hiding the heat crowding under my eyes. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"It's weird."

He hummed in agreement. That's two things now.

"You think it's bad weird?" he asked.

Heat swirled in my center, making my slit twitch. The sting hurt. But it was a good kind of hurt, like I was getting ready for the ride of my life.

I looked at Jermaine. "Not bad weird. Just weird."

He hummed again.

It was odd seeing him in such an inquisitive state. Plenty of times I had witnessed his thinking sessions, but never up close like this. And never about me.

What was happening? "Let's just get this done. You got extended family here to do the ritual? Some kind of grandparent? I don't got shit."

He hung his head. His eyes lost their ambergris luster, honey dripping right to the ground.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Oh, I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't say anything, El. Let's go."

And then he darted ahead, jogging the rest of the way to the mansion gates.

This was going to be a long night.