Page 6 of Bear with Me

And she would be. Once he claimed her, there would be no other for either of them.

“Did you ask her that?” Jensen hedged. “No, you didn’t. You decided that all on your own. Hell, she’s covered herself in your scent more than once. Searches you out even when every encounter ends with the two of you at each other’s throats.”

Brock growled at the truth of those words. His heated encounters with Jemma usually ended in him stomping away to hide the effect she had on him. It was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder then carry her to one of the cabins, toss her on the bed, strip them both to the skin, and claim her. He didn’t think she was ready for all the things he wanted to do to and with her.

“Laramie thinks she’ll try to leave,” Brock confessed.

“Will you let her?” Jensen asked as he turned toward the door. “Or will you give her a reason to stay?”

“I—”

The door pushed open before Brock could finish his answer. Holt stood in the doorway, blood staining his shirt and jeans, a rifle slung over his shoulder. He appeared as strong and fierce as the Marine he’d once been.

“Injured are heading this way, now,” he said as he motioned for Jensen and Brock to follow him back outside. “We’ve got people on the way to help out. Tell them where you want them.” Holt’s gaze moved from Jensen to the bandage on Brock’s thigh. “How bad?”

“Already healing. Laramie, Em, and the others?”

“Laramie has a few scratches. Koby, Matheus, and I helped him guard the main house,” Holt offered. “We managed to keep a few of the attackers alive for interrogation. Laramie and Koby already took them to the cabin we used previously for that.”

The cabin they’d used for the hunters they’d captured while rescuing Helen and so many other female shifters, bears and other species. Each interrogation had led them to a new location. Some, they’d been too late when they arrived. Others, they’d managed to reach in time.

“We’ve got people searching the woods for any of our den that might be too wounded to make it back,” Holt continued.

Brock knew what Holt wasn’t saying. They needed to see if any of their den had been killed in the skirmish. He hoped not. They’d taken too many losses. At some point, the hits had to stop coming.

“Em and the others?” Brock asked.

“No one got into the lodge.”

Jensen took the reins and asked the next question before Brock could. “Who all was inside?”

“Em, Jaeda, Sidia, and a few others,” Holt said, seeming oblivious to who Brock wanted information on.

“Christ, man. Was Jemma with them?” Brock thundered.

“I don’t know.” Holt glared at him. “If you’d claimed your mate and formed a bond with her, instead of rejecting her, then you’d know if she was okay.”

Brock growled. He was getting tired of being called out for his stupidity. It was enough already. But the human member of their den didn’t back down. He got right in Brock’s face.

“I know where my mate is. I know she’s safe. I feel her.” Holt pounded his hand on his chest. “I hear her.” He tapped his temple. “She’s a part of me that I’ll never lose. Mate your fucking mate, Brock, and stop letting her run circles around you.”

Brock wanted to roar with fury, and he had no one to blame but himself. He’d made excuse after excuse as to why he couldn’t mate Jemma. She was young. She’d tried to get Laramie to choose her as a mate. She was immature. She was irritating. Yet, none of them mattered right now. He’d been drawn to her as much as it seemed she was to him. Hell, she even wore his jackets and sweatshirts if he left them around. On more than one morning, he’d woken with one hugged close while he breathed in her scent that lingered on the cloth. What he really wanted was to wake up wrapped around her, to roll her over and slide inside her, deep, filling her with every inch of the turgid length of his desire.

He was done waiting. Done battling himself. Jemma was his mate. There were things they needed to discuss. Answers he needed and, most likely, ones he’d have to give, as well. Right now, he needed to hold her close, feel her skin against his, and assure himself she was safe and whole.

“I need to find Jemma.”

“Brock! Jensen!” Milo Calderson, Fletch’s younger brother, ran toward them. “It’s Jemma! Fletch found her close to the edge of the property. He’s heading this way with her now. She’s hurt. Bad. Deep knife wound to the side. She bled a lot. She’s unconscious.”

“Fuck!” Brock roared. “How far out?”

“Three minutes,” Milo shared.

“What else?” Holt demanded, obviously picking up on something Brock couldn’t focus on.

“Muriel’s missing.”

“She’s here,” Jasper called, reminding them he was there. “She’s with me.”

---