Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Kyle

If Imogen knew that each time she touched me my whole body came alight, she'd have snatched her hand back so damn fast. I was forced to grit my teeth, no, my fangs, as a thick, liquid heat pooled in my groin, my dick perking up instantly. But having a raging boner in jeans wasn't the same as when free balling it in running shorts, so I sent a rapid slideshow of unpleasant images through my head to try to get not so little Kyle to settle down. That only partially worked. But her words? They cooled my ardour far more effectively.

"How did you get this mark?"

"I…" My mouth was moving, needing to answer her, to explain, but I put the brakes on real fast. "I hurt myself?—"

"He got scratched up by a tree when we were out running," Lucas supplied smoothly, shooting me a meaningful look. We could not tell Imogen what we were, not until she was ready.

But when exactly was that?

"This fucker tripped me." I jerked my thumb in Luc's direction. "Scratched me up."

"Where?" Why did she ask that so intently? "Where did you go for a run?"

Luc and I looked at each other in confusion, but Asher stepped forward. He seemed to either avoid looking at Imogen at all or couldn't stop himself from staring, and he did the latter right now.

"In a forest." That was correct and all the details she needed, but he forged on. "A pine forest on the outskirts of the city."

"Why…?" My mate's voice died in her throat and she seemed to realise she was still touching me, so she snatched her hand back. I missed that small spot of warmth the moment it was gone. "Why would you go all the way out there? There's huge parks right near this place."

There was, ringing the entire city, which is why I shot Asher a dark look, mentally questioning how he was going to get us out of this situation, but he just smiled. Not answering her, just stared and watched her closely until I was forced to speak up.

"Asher likes to push us hard and make sure we can deal with a variety of terrains when training. The parks are nice, but they're all big stretches of neatly mowed grass. The forest is full of trees to dodge around, hidden rocks and fallen logs. Lots of obstacles to jump over."

"Right." She looked down at her palm then, as if realising now what she'd done. "Right. Well, I better get breakfast on."

I watched her walk away and so did everyone else, but did they do so with the same kind of longing? I fucking hated lying to Imogen. Her ex had done just that and more besides, and we hated him for it, but what did that make us?

"OK, let's get some bag work done before we have breakfast," Asher said, walking towards the punching bags.

"So we're not going to talk about this?" Lucas voiced my own complaint perfectly. "That Imogen knew that Kyle got scratched up, that she seemed real interested in where we were last night?"

"No, because I know why," Asher said, pulling on gloves.

"What?" The prick ignored me, because of course he did, focussing on getting his straps just perfect until I pushed my hand into his chest. His eyes whipped up, a snarl there before he thought better of it, but his gaze was dark as he stared into my eyes. "What do you know?"

"I'm a dream walker." He referenced a rare ability amongst bear shifters. When asleep, they could enter the dreams of their fated mates. Shit, the really rare ones could get into the dreams of other people.

"You're… what?"

I didn't need him to explain what that meant. I'd learned the lore of our people at the elders' knees, just like everyone else, but that my sleuth mate had that specific ability was a revelation.

"I can enter the?—"

"I know that, fuckhead." I gave him a shove, and in skin I could get Asher's feet stumbling across the gym floor in ways that my bear never could. "I mean this specific situation. How long…?" My throat closed over, somehow jealous of the scenario I imagined. All of us wanted to get closer to Imogen. She was the fire we all clustered around, driving out the chill of the world we lived in. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"Dream walk?" He shrugged like we were talking about whether to have black or white coffee. "Since the first time I turned. It used to be Ursula's dreams I entered."

"He thought I was his fated mate for a while there." The woman herself crossed her arms and shook her head. Sometimes I forgot they weren't joined by a blood bond. "I set him straight there. He… protected me in my dreams." Her hand shot out and she gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Kept the nightmares from overwhelming me, but I haven't needed that for a long time, and Imogen… She's the one that needs you, obviously."

"She was having nightmares about Phil." Asher's voice was flat and even. "The bear couldn't let that happen so he chased them away."

"And?"

Lucas' barked that out.

"And then the bear relinquished control and she saw that."

"In a dream." Luc sounded like he was bargaining now. "In a dream, right?"

"Only in a dream," he said. "Imogen was sleeping when we were in the forest and I… felt her presence. The bond seems to go both ways. She can walk through my head just like I can hers."

Every muscle in my body tensed, fists formed as the instinct to reject this information throbbed through me, but there was no way to fight reality. He shared this terrible, awesome, legendary intimacy with our fated mate and I was jealous of that.

"So, you just keep her safe and show her what we're doing in her dreams?" I asked, needing that reassurance to settle my heart rate.

"Something like that."

I knew Asher, so it became immediately apparent he was holding back details. Luc frowned and stepped forward.

"That's not the full story."

He was ready to interrogate our sleuth mate, get the truth out of him with a punch to the ribs if he had to, but I glanced at the door. There was someone else involved in this situation that was far more likely to be open and honest about it. All interest in training faded as I started striding towards the door. Asher called out my name, but unless he followed that with a confession of everything else he'd dreamed, I wasn't listening.

That didn't come.

The bear was close to my skin, scenting the air and telling me where she'd gone. Not towards the kitchen like she'd said, but here, the art room. I stood in the doorway and watched.

Imogen was so fucking beautiful when she drew. Some wary part of her was set aside to let this out. Her real and true self was allowed to peek out, a secret part of her, just like my bear, and it had her hand moving across the paper.

Blocky, faint shapes were sketched out, giving her a framework to go back and adjust, the lines growing stronger, darker, more confident. I knew what it was before she'd even drawn in the details, knowing the shape of that head, those fluffy ears. Luc's bear appeared on the page, becoming clearer by the second, only to be shoved aside.

Imogen drew like she was in a fugue state, her pupils flicking back and forth rapidly in time with her hand. This shape was familiar for a whole other reason, because at least some of the time, I lived within it.

My bear's shoulder wasn't quite that shape and she frowned, as if realising the exact same thing. An eraser was snatched up and she rubbed it out quickly, then went back for another go. The line was stronger, more certain, and then my fur was indicated in a series of cross hatches, leading down to paws that she recorded in detail. It was the chest that she paused on, though. She had a basic outline, then when it came to doing the shading, her hand slowed. An indication of fur at the crest, but when she got to the spot that still stung from the scratch Luc had left her fingers tightened around the pencil and stopped. The paper was then discarded, just like the other. Another was retrieved and before she put pencil to paper, I knew what she would draw.

Asher, big, tall, the most powerful. Asher who entered her dreams like a thief in the night. Asher, who hid the fact that his bond with her was far deeper than ours. I watched her breath come in faster and faster, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as her cheeks pinked, making me wonder what the hell had happened as she dreamed. Her hand moved much more tentatively as she took greater care to record his bear on the page. Less shading was needed, so she focussed on the line work, going over and over to correct them until I saw a damn near perfect outline of his beast. She sat back then, the pencil left on the desk as she stared. Seeing what, that's what I wanted to ask.

What had they done together in the safe cocoon of her dreams? What had she seen, heard, felt? Had he touched her, ran a finger down the slope of her neck and teased that stray curl there, just how I'd wanted to? My fangs ached, my bear pressing hard against my skin. That didn't happen if I let him out regularly, but he was vexed. In his mind we'd been holding ourselves back for a damn good reason. Our mate needed to heal from another's harm before she could see us as anything but a helping hand.

But what if Asher helped her in whole other ways?

My lips parted and I took a step forward, ready to ask her just that when a little voice broke the silence.

"Kyle!" Scott rushed towards me, flinging himself at my legs. My hands went out to grab him and swing him around because I knew it'd have him giggling. "Are you going to do a drawing too?"

"I'm sorry," Mary said, then stopped herself. We'd told her often enough she didn't have to apologise, and it was nice to see that taken on board. "Scott loves to draw and…" Her eyes met mine, pain and hope uneasy bedfellows there. "Having a big brother figure in his life has been helping."

Considering the fact that when Scott arrived he was angry and spitting like a furious kitten, I'd take the boisterous boy I had with me any day.

"I'm glad." I winked at the boy. "So what're you going to draw today?"

" The Grumpy Bear !" he said, roaring wildly. The picture book series was a hit with kids and hey, if it operated as a little human/bear shifter propaganda, I was OK with that.

"OK, show me what you've got."

But when I turned around, I saw Imogen was standing, her whole body trembling like a frightened fawn.

"Those bears are cool!" I wished one day that our mate would think the same thing, but I admit I grinned at Scott's review of her drawings. "They don't look very grumpy, though."

"No, I don't suppose they do." She pushed the drawings his way, something that had Mary making a sound of protest. "They're yours if you want. You can make them as grumpy as you like."

"Oh no, he'll ruin them," Mary said, rushing forward, Charlie tugged along behind her.

"Nothing to ruin," Imogen replied, not to Mary but to me. Her eyes locked with mine as she walked towards the door. "I was just going to toss them in the bin, so if he wants to rework the drawings, I'm cool with it." Her hands smoothed down the front of her shirt. "I need to get breakfast on."

That look she gave me as she pushed past, full of fire and rebellion, I was glad to see it but heartbroken at the same time. Betrayal, that's what her scent told me, along with a thick stench of doubt. She wasn't sure how to feel, and I couldn't tell her which was right.