Chapter One

Jemma growled as she stomped her way from the back door of the main lodge where the Holloways lived to the edge of the woods that ran through the Wyoming property they called home. She wanted to rage, to scream to the skies. At the same time, she wanted to cry. To empty every caged emotion she’d locked inside since she was thirteen.

Locked away.

Hidden.

It was all she’d known for five fucking years. Trapped in a tiny room where she couldn’t even shift and free her bear. It had been pure hell. One she refused to go back to. No matter how much the Holloways wanted to protect her. She didn’t need that. Freedom was all she needed. Fresh air. The feel of the earth beneath her feet. The ability to shift into her brown bear whenever she wanted. Those were the things that reminded her she was alive. She certainly didn’t need a mate who didn’t want her, who treated her like a child when she hadn’t been one since her family was killed and she was taken.

She ignored the other members of the Holloway den as she wove her way deeper into the woods. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to be around anyone.

“Jemma! Wait up!”

She sped up, hoping if she didn’t slow down or acknowledge Helen, the other woman would leave her alone. She’d been close friends with the female shifter since she’d been rescued from the hunters who’d held Helen captive for years. Instead, Helen jogged toward her and fell into step at her side.

“Where you headed?”

Jemma shrugged.

Helen sighed. “Brock?”

Jemma pressed her lips tightly together, holding in all the words she wanted to say.

“Have dinner with Fletch and me tonight,” Helen said. “Milo will be there, but that’s it.”

Fletch and Milo Calderson were polar bear shifters who were part of the Holloway den. Fletch had been the one to save Jemma from that tiny basement room. And he was the one who’d brought her back to the Holloways, the seven brothers she’d been hidden from. Laramie, the oldest and alpha, Koby, Jensen, Declan, Slade, Brock, and Matheus. The Holloways, who’d tried to lock her in a dark, basement room again.

She’d been willing to do anything to prevent that from happening. Even chasing after Laramie Holloway. Really, she’d been chasing her freedom, but no one understood that. They judged her, especially Brock Holloway. Not once had he asked her what she’d been through, what she’d seen, or what she’d suffered. What her nightmares were about. Instead, he stared at her with contempt and condemnation.

That was why she refused to acknowledge what everyone else tiptoed around. Brock Holloway was her mate. A fact that changed nothing.

“I wouldn’t be good company,” Jemma offered, which was nothing but the truth.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t,” Helen warned, pulling Jemma to a stop. “Talk to him. Hell, talk to Laramie and Em. They’ll understand. Don’t leave. You’re safer here.”

Em was Laramie’s mate. Though she and Jemma had a rocky start, they’d become friends, as well. Em often took Jemma’s side when she argued with one of the Holloway brothers, even on the very rare occasion it was Laramie.

“Rissa might think differently,” Jemma fired back, shrugging off Helen’s hand and walking again.

Rissa was Slade Holloway’s mate. The woman, along with a visiting tiger shifter, had been taken by a group of hunters, though they’d both been on Holloway land at the time—something that had never happened before. Jemma knew if it could happen once, it could happen again.

“What happened to Rissa isn’t the norm for here, and you know it.” Helen’s voice was right on Jemma’s heels, letting her know Helen wasn’t leaving her alone.

“She was taken from Holloway land, tortured, and almost killed, proving there’s no place safe from these zealots who hunt us. Hunters can get to us anywhere.”

“Jemma.” Helen darted around Jemma and blocked her path, forcing her to stop again. “You know when Slade and the others went after her, they killed every single one of those responsible. We’re safer here.”

Jemma shook her head.

“We are!” Helen growled, showing a flash of the bear she’d just reconnected with. “You may not talk about it, but I know you didn’t have it easy when you were taken and hidden away. But you were hidden away. I was captured, and I spent years in that hell. A hell so dark I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I didn’t think I’d survive, not when so many of us were dying every day. Then…” Helen paused, shoulders shaking as a shudder went through her. “Then I didn’t want to. I wanted to die. I didn’t care.”

Jemma’s heart caught at the torment on Helen’s face, and she stepped closer, hugging her friend.

“Until you met Fletch.”

Helen nodded. “He’s my mate.”

“He’s a good man,” Jemma agreed. “You’re a lucky woman.”

“Brock isn’t bad, Jemma. Neither of you have taken the time to get to know each other.”

Jemma laughed, but it wasn’t from amusement.

“Like you took the time to know Fletch before you took him as your mate?” she asked and watched Helen’s face flush. “We both know that’s not how it normally works for shifters. We accept the bond the moment we feel it. By the time I realized who Brock is to me, he’d already rejected our bond. I’m only following his lead.”

“Jemma.”

She hated the pity she heard in Helen’s voice.

“I’m fine. Really. I am, but I can’t stay here. No one should ask that of me.”

Stay and watch her mate grow further and further away from her? Watch as he fell in love with another? Mated and had children? Even she didn’t deserve that. Which left her with one option. Leaving the Holloway den and Wyoming.

“He’ll come around,” Helen whispered as she reached for Jemma’s hand. At some point, she’d started directing them toward the cabin she shared with her mate.

“He won’t,” Jemma countered, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to. “He’ll never forget I tried to persuade Laramie to take me as his mate when I first arrived here.”

“He will if you talk to him.”

Jemma shook her head. “I’ll stay long enough to witness the punishment of Lawrence Walker, then I’m going.”

Lawrence Walker. Jemma was definitely staying until she saw Lawrence Walker shredded and bled out. He’d been one of the Holloway’s elders and the man responsible for so much pain and heartbreak for the entire den. He’d been the one plotting with their mortal enemies. The one who’d planned the death of Matthew Holloway, the father of the seven Holloway brothers and the former alpha. Lawrence had continued his reign of terror by setting in place a series of strategic attacks that had targeted all the females, leaving the den almost crippled. Anyone who knew bear shifters, knew the females were the lifeblood of the species. Only a female bear shifter could carry bear shifter offspring. Without them, bear shifters would disappear.

Declan Holloway and his mate, Xandra, along with two of Laramie Holloway’s enforcers, Chance and Wood, had gone after Lawrence Walker when he’d run from Wyoming. They’d caught up with him, and they should have been back already. Apparently, they’d been delayed for some reason Jemma wasn’t privy to. All she knew was, they should be rolling in any day. Lawrence would be put to justice, and she could leave.

“Jemma…” Helen began when a scream shattered the air.

“Who was that?” Jemma asked, already moving at a jog toward where it had come from.

“I don’t know,” Helen yelled just as another terrified cry split the air.

Then the world fell from beneath Jemma’s feet as she pressed through the thick foliage and took in the picture before her. Hunters spilled through the trees like ants searching for tasty morsels, or in this case, shifter blood to spill. She paused only long enough to shove Helen back through the trees.

“Run!” she yelled. “Warn the others. Hurry!”

Jemma was already shifting as she turned back toward the small clearing, charging for those closest in range. She didn’t see whoever had screamed and could only hope the woman was okay and not lying on the ground somewhere, already beyond help.

Jemma couldn’t think about that, though. She focused on swiping her claws and shredding skin and muscle to the bone. She used her powerful jaws to clamp down and tear. The taste of blood coated her tongue just as the flow of it soaked into her fur.

She fought with all she had, but there were too many hunters. For every attacker she caught beneath her claws, a dozen more slipped by. She reared up then slammed back down, taking down two men beneath her. Their weapons fell uselessly at their sides as she sliced them open from chest to groin. She was gearing up to go again when a roar split the air followed by several more. The den was aware of the attack.

Something hard slammed against her head, jerking her focus back to those around her. She was shaking her head when she took another hit to her back leg then another until it crumpled beneath her.

She hit the ground hard but refused to stay down. There was no way she’d give up. Then someone struck, their blade landing hard and deep in her side. She roared, rearing up and swiping at everyone around her, determined to take as many of them with her as she could. She shook off the hand on her side, but the blade remained deep. Fire lanced through her, and she knew they’d coated it with something. She struggled to get her legs under her. She was fading fast, too fast. She didn’t want to go out like this, her death just another notch in the belt of a cult whose sole focus was eradicating the shifter species from the earth.

“Leave her,” someone ordered. “Eyes on the prize. Get the female Kodiak. No one else matters.”

Em. They were going after Em. She had to get up. Had to protect Em. But Jemma couldn’t move, couldn’t even feel her limbs. She wasn’t going anywhere. The roar she wanted to loose was trapped in her throat. The knife had definitely been dipped in something to make her unable to move. Feet trampled her as they passed her, but she didn’t feel any of the blows that landed.

Someone squatted by her, pulling a syringe from a bag at his waist and injecting it into her neck.

“Let’s see who we have here,” he murmured as the drug hit her system, forcing her to shift from bear to woman. “Well, you’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Shame you’re dirty shifter scum.” His finger brushed her nipple. “Bet those bears think you’re a good fuck. Wild. Untamed. But for me, it’d be liking fucking a dog. A bitch in heat.”

He chuckled and tossed the empty needle beside her.

“Let’s see how well you heal with that animal shut down, bitch.”

Jemma’s eyes blinked as she fought to stay awake, to see what he’d do. She wanted to see the death blow, but darkness crowded her vision. Her eyes were so heavy. She stopped fighting to keep them open.

Then she thought of Brock. Pictured his face in her mind. His body. He was strong and fierce and by far the most handsome man she’d ever seen. If death was her next journey, she wanted the memory of him to be the last thing she saw. She would have liked to have kissed him just once, to have felt the tender touch of his hands against her skin, but some things were never meant to be. It seemed she and Brock Holloway were one of them.