14. Merry Epilogue

merry epilogue

. . .

Did I really think this was the worst Christmas ever while crying my eyes out before the car accident that somehow both destroyed and saved my life? Because now I’d call it the…

“Best Christmas ever,” Cody whispered in my ear, ten mornings after that fateful crash. Then he hooked one massive arm under my leg and?—

“Unhhh!” I groaned—happily—as he pushed into me from behind.

Estrus or no, I found myself waking most mornings just as wet as my guys were hard. I didn’t want to accuse our bears of anything, but I suspected they’d developed a habit of having steamy late-night conversations while their humans slept—bear sexting, if you will—leaving us more than ready to go the moment we opened our eyes.

Usually, I woke up with at least two of my mates in my now permanent den nest. Mak had moved it into the corner, and it now lived nestled between the hearth-like fireplace and one of the den’s windows—an “eye” opening in the totem cave’s left eave, which was filled with a slab of one-way glass we could see out of but not be seen through from the outside.

What had once been a chaotic mess of blankets, pillows, and discarded clothes had been transformed into a nature altar meant for decadence—and extremely wicked things.

Mak had framed the massive nest with rugged branches, gleaming stones, and carefully placed dreamcatchers, weaving raw wilderness into a sacred haven over a base carpet of vibrant moss. Furs from various animals lined the interior bed, soft as clouds stolen by a certain bear angel determined never to let me leave.

But this morning, I’d woken in Cody’s cozy cave den. It featured its own fireplace, a mini fridge, and what he called an “emergency hot chocolate station” with an electric kettle ready to go at all times.

Even after sharing bond bites with Mak, Ash, and Cody, I was still surprised—sometimes outright baffled—by the three bears who’d swept me off my feet faster than Bradford and I could agree on a time for our first date.

Mak was built and spoke like a gruff vet turned construction worker, yet he had a gift for artistry and architecture that left me speechless.

His “renovations,” as he called them, were more like “installations”—breathtaking creations drawn from what I swore were art-school-level drafting skills.

In bed, he liked his sex rough and sweet—his words, not mine. He would punish me for everything from “not agreeing to mate us from day one” to “not coming to us with my doubts and insecure thoughts within five minutes of having them.”

Mak-style punishments required a safe word and could range from edging to spanking, often delivered with love so intense that my wrist bond tingled with joy—even as I sobbed-begged him to let me come. Afterward, he’d always soothe me with soft praise and tender kisses that made my head spin.

Ash, on the other hand, was the one I shared the most in common with. We could talk for hours about anything—anatomy, medical mysteries, or even random trivia—much to the consternated growls of our other two maul mates when we got too engrossed in “nerding out.”

Our favorite downtime activity was reading. I devoured alien romances, while he preferred space-heavy sci-fi—authors like Andy Weir, Dennis E. Taylor, and James S. A. Corey (who I hadn’t even realized was two people until Ash told me). We’d lounge together on the nest, taking turns as lap pillows. Though I quickly learned it was a terrible idea for me to serve as Ash’s lap pillow during spicy romance scenes.

Because Ash… oh, Ash. He hadn’t been kidding about Cody not waiting until Christmas to eat me out. But unlike Cody, who focused on making my dreams come true, Ash seemed genuinely addicted to making me come with his mouth.

One whiff of arousal, and I’d find my knees pushed apart. In an instant, Ash would have his head—and his wicked tongue between my thighs. Sometimes, he’d tease me for chapters, licking everywhere but my clit until I was trembling. Other times, jealousy over certain fictional aliens would send him into a frenzy, leaving me unable to see straight when I came on his greedy, demanding mouth.

Don’t even get me started on what happened when I challenged myself to read the entire Alien Overlordsseries by Taylor Vaughn before Christmas—seriously, don’t ask. Let’s just say my otherwise gentlemanly Ash now refers to himself as Your Pussy’s Overlord.

And then there was Cody. My sweet bear. He loved long cuddle sessions and a nightly hot chocolate with our maul before shifting into his massive Kodiak form to sleep at the foot of the nest.

He was such a gentle giant—until he got inside me. Then he’d go rabid, as Ash often called it, pinning me down with his big body and re-biting my left shoulder to keep me still while he took me with violent, body-rocking thrusts that led to soul-shaking orgasms.

Ash often grumbled about having to lick my sore, wrecked pussy back to readiness after Cody had his way with me. Eventually, my poor Kodiak found himself placed permanently last when all three of them wanted a turn inside me. But I never complained. There was something about being taken so completely, so overwhelmingly, that left me replete with the feeling of being beautifully loved.

That Christmas morning, however, Cody treated me to his second favorite kind of sex—what he called the “cuddle position.” He spooned me tight to his chest with his bottom arm banded across my torso at an angle that let him massage my breast, tweaking my nipple, while his top hand lazily rubbed between my legs.

Ash never touched my clit with his fingers anymore, preferring to make me come on his mouth before climbing on top to turn my afterglow into a second, no-hands-required orgasm. But Cody had paid close attention during Ash’s one lesson, and he most definitely understood the assignment.

That morning, when he was ready for me to come apart, he applied just enough pressure to my special button to make me cry out as my pussy gushed all over his dick, clamping down in a way that sent waves of pleasure through both of us.

My tingling left shoulder bite let me feel just how much he loved the way I came on the thick cock stuffed inside of me. My fully stretched out pussy contracting around his huge shaft had become his favorite sensation in the world.

Maybe a little too favorite.

Usually, he came right after me. But that morning, he just held me tight, waiting for my climax to ebb before patiently building a new one with his still-rock-hard erection and masterful fingerwork. And then another. And another.

We might have stayed like that all morning if Mak and Ash hadn’t burst in, naked and dripping pre-cum.

“That’s enough of that,” Mak said in the same tone he used to issue commands when handling tribe matters. “Time for you to start making Christmas dinner, Little Bear.”

“No fair! You said I could have her to myself as my Christmas present!” Cody complained behind me, though his strokes quickened—as they always did when the rest of our maul was watching.

“And you did, Kodiak.” Ash’s voice was calm, but my right shoulder bite let me feel his simmering frustration beneath his composed exterior. Spending Christmas morning in separate rooms instead of flanking me in the altar nest had clearly stretched his and Mak’s Christmas generosity thin. “Now it’s time to begin preparations for dinner.”

“And I wouldn’t mind a big plate of flapjacks after Ash and I punish our mate for coming so hard on your dick I could feel it in my bite through a couple of stone walls,” Mak growled.

“Three times,” Ash added, folding his arms and pursing his lips like a judgmental priest, even as his straining dick continued to leak onto Cody’s fluffy carpet at a 90-degree angle.

Cody groaned at the reminder, gripping my breasts and pussy even tighter. “But I’m not done with her ye?—”

Mak flashed images into all our minds—graphic and unhygienic visions of what he and Ash planned to do to me on the quartz kitchen counter he’d sourced from a local quarry while Cody dutifully made flapjacks.

That did it. Cody came with a helpless bear roar behind me, his massive body quaking as he bit down on my shoulder and filled me with his release. The sharp pain of his bite was fleeting, healing almost instantly with the tingling glow of the bear magic responsible for our special Four Direction bond.

But we barely had time to come down from the pleasure of his delayed orgasm before Mak lifted me from the bed.

My polar bear, as I was quickly learning, always kept his promises and followed through on his threats.

True to his word, I found myself thoroughly punished on top of the kitchen counter. Spanked and spit-roasted across the quartz island while Cody made us all flapjacks.

Yes, this was definitely the best Christmas ever—well, at least until next year, when our cave home would be filled with what both Ash and my own bear confirmed would be two cubs. One would be another Kodiak like Cody and me. The other would be a polar bear, taking after Mak.

Apparently, Fresh Bites were automatically assigned the bear type of whoever claimed them first, but their progeny could choose their own bear assignment at birth.

“Maybe he’ll be better than me,” Mak said hopefully when my bond bite transmitted the news to him after my bear officially implanted their two eggs.

“That’s a lot to ask for,” I’d replied with a soft smile. “If we’re lucky, he’ll be just as wonderful.”

And that’s how I ended up being punished for hours for being “too damn sweet.”

But that day, we had to cut Mak’s punishment a little short. Cody would never officially ask for help preparing Christmas dinner—not even with Ash’s parent maul, Mak’s two remaining dads, Cody’s reverse parent maul (three moms and one dad), and three of his many Kodiak brothers all coming over. Still, after we’d eaten, showered, and finally dressed in something other than lounging clothes, our bond bites let us know he could use some extra hands—and a cup of hot cocoa. The real kind, not the euphemistic request he often made when his Kodiak felt frisky.

Loving mauls worked well together—I’d learned that over the last ten days, too. When you wanted the best for each other and could literally feel your mates’ emotions, anticipating needs and clearing obstacles felt as natural as breathing. That kind of synergy was especially useful when preparing a large, festive meal fit to feed a small village.

By the time the first knock sounded on the totem cave’s door, the den was alive with the scent of good food, hot cocoa, and holiday cheer. My soon-to-be in-laws didn’t hold back their appreciation when dinner was served, “oohing” and “ahhing” over Mak’s perfectly roasted moose, Cody’s honey-glazed hams with cranberry sauce, and the massive platter of maple-drizzled roasted vegetables that Ash and I had prepared while debating theories about the winter finale of our favorite sitcom, Space Ca-idiots.

But the warm camaraderie didn’t last long before the conversation took a sharp turn.

“So, since only our fully-khanuk son and Mak, a half-khanuk, are expecting cubs this summer, I’m assuming we’ll be having a traditional wedding instead of the usual Joining Ceremony?” one of Cody’s three moms declared, lobbing that argument grenade into the conversation before we’d even finished passing the bannock flatbread Ash had baked.

“Joining Ceremonies are easier on heavily pregnant mothers. Less physically and mentally taxing,” added Tarek, one of Ash’s fathers and the tribe’s former Pathkeeper—the Ayaska term for a bear-shifter doctor who manages both medical and mental health. I loved that both Ash and his father had double degrees in psychology and veterinary medicine. Honestly, human doctors could take notes.

“I vote Joining Ceremony, too,” Ash’s mother chimed in, though none of us had asked for their opinions. “I went into estrus and got pregnant with Ash’s second-oldest brother right after ours. If you do the same, maybe we’ll finally get our first grandcub before I’m too old to keep up.”

A slight flare of Ash’s bond bite on my wrist told me this was a long-standing complaint from his frustrated mother and fathers. Ash was great at keeping his emotions cloaked, but I could sense something about his older brothers had left a bitter mark on his otherwise happy and loving parent maul.

Speaking of absent siblings…

“Will the constable not be joining us for dinner?” Cody’s dad asked Mak and his dads, his large frame radiating the same jolly warmth as his son. “I saw his horse tied up at the station.”

Cody’s formerly off-grid family had moved to Bear Mountain after the Ayaska began accepting outsider bear residents near the turn of the century. Living in Bear Mountain proper, they weren’t privy to the more controversial aspects of the Tuk'mara's family history.

Mak’s two dads exchanged a glance. Zion, the Jamaican-Canadian one, gave a slight shake of his head, and I felt the weight of what went unsaid.

Through Mak’s bond, I’d learned about the tangled dynamics of his womb twin siblings—a full Ayaska brother and a half-Black sister.

Mara, his sister, had been born an Empty Spirit, meaning she had no access to her bear and was also unable to bear cubs. Exiled at eighteen by their mother for her safety, Mara had refused to return, even after Mak, as the newly appointed Tuk'mara, offered her an exemption. Her womb twin, now the town’s detachment Canadian Mountie, had also stayed away. Officially, out of loyalty to Mara—but his lingering bitterness over being passed over for the Tuk'mara role he’d expected didn’t help matters.

“Speaking of kids,” Cody interjected, steering the conversation back to safer territory, “Noelle has a big sister who’s a midwife. We’re hoping to invite her out for the combined wedding and Joining Ceremony in the spring.”

“A midwife!” Tarek’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, reminding me of Ash when he explained the clever resolutions to his books’ complicated sci-fi plots. “Ashak, did you tell her?—?”

“Of course,” Ash replied, calm as ever, though excitement hummed through our bond.

“She’s recovering from a painful divorce,” I explained, appreciating that Ash hadn’t opted to betray my sister’s confidence. “I know the clan is desperate for someone skilled in human births, but I’m not sure she’s ready to… uh… embrace Bear Mountain’s unique requirements.”

That was the most polite way I could think to explain that my sister probably wouldn’t be down to start a new relationship—not with one, but three bear shifters. “I mean, this is… a lot.”

“But not too much for you,” Ash teased, a wicked gleam in his eye.

“I’m starting to like too much,” I shot back, amplifying a mental image of the only dynamic we hadn’t tried yet: me choking on Cody’s massive cock while Mak took me from below and Ash from behind. “In fact, ‘too much’ is the only Christmas gift I could think of for my mates on such short notice.”

A charged silence fell over the table. Then Mak slapped it with enough force to rattle the plates. “Cody, didn’t you say something about dessert?”

“But we haven’t even finished—” one of Cody’s moms began.

“Yep,” Cody interrupted, his mental voice adding to the maul, " Just give me a minute for this erection to go down" before he stood up. “I’ll bring it right out.”

Less than an hour later, all my soon-to-be in-laws were shooed out with to-go thermos of hot chocolate and plates piled high enough to last them until the New Year’s Hibernation Feast.

While they stuffed themselves silly at home, my bears stuffed all three of my holes with something far more delicious. Ash settled me on Mak’s cock, positioning me perfectly to give what all three of my mates agreed was “the best Christmas present ever.”

Just a few insanely hot minutes later, as we all came together, I knew this Beary Sexy Christmas was only the start of a lifetime filled with indulgence, love, and happily receiving way too much—on Christmas and every day in between.

O h my bear, thank you so much for reading Her Beary Sexy Christmas !

Want more of Noelle and her three bears?

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Springtime on Bear Mountain

A surprise cameo from Noelle’s mother

A shocking twist

And a sneak peek at Her Beary Spicy Valentine , Book 2 in the Welcome to Bear Mountain series.

Can’t wait to see you again on Bear Mountain!