2. Ash

ash

. . .

It had been a hell of a long night, that was for sure.

With this being my last day of work before denning season started, I’d stayed at my Bear Mountain office until well after hours, scarfing down the sandwich my third maul, Cody, brought over from his restaurant. And I didn’t finish all my den calls until the sun peeked over the mountains.

We had a record number of pregnant mama bears this season. The Dara'khanuk grizzlies especially liked to sleep all day and get their checkups after sundown, which meant I hadn’t slept either, even though I'd grown up keeping a traditional Ayaska schedule of work only from sun-up to sunset.

I couldn’t complain too much, since I wasn’t alone. Mak’s black-on-black truck pulled up to our den just as I emerged from my white Jeep, medical bag in hand.

The color choices were ironic: me, a full Ayaska black bear, driving a white crossover; him, a half polar bear, opting for a Ram 2500 Power Wagon that our third maul had nicknamed Bear Vader. The hulking truck suited Mak’s personality perfectly, though—big, imposing, and unapologetically intense.

Mak was four years younger than me, but that morning, in the pale light of dawn, he looked a decade older. His jaw was set, his shoulders tense, as if the weight of the entire clan rested squarely on him alone—along with whatever construction jobs his crew had to leave unfinished before winter.

“Tribe keep you up all night?” I asked as he climbed out of his truck. Not that I needed to guess—the maul bond bite on my right wrist told me that was exactly what had happened.

As the first half-outsider Tuk'mara, Mak was dead set on proving his mother had made the right choice when she named him Clan Guardian on her deathbed. If anyone needed anything before denning season, Mak wasn’t going to say no.

But now, Mak rubbed a hand over his face as his tired, ice-blue eyes scanned the rest of the dirt drive leading up to our totem den. Like all Ayaska maul dens, it looked like a large totem carved directly into the towering cliffs of the Kwalnal'ak Mountains from the outside while hosting large, cozy three—to five-bedroom cave dwellings on the inside.

“Cody decide to walk his bear home again?”Mak asked, noting the absence of our third maul's Bronco.

“Looks like it,”I replied.“That’s the third time this week.”

Mak’s brows furrowed.“You think he’s trying to send a message? Or just leaning into his brown bear instincts?”

“Maybe both,”I said with a shrug.“Unmated brown bears have the instinct to hibernate earlier. But he was upset when I told him we'd both be skipping fireside cocoa last night.”

“I didn’t skip it.”Mak's jaw tightened under his thick black beard.“I had shit to do, and you know half these mauls don’t winterize their dens until the last minute.”

Which was about as close as Mak would ever get to complaining about balancing construction work with leading the clan.

“Still,”I said with a shake of my head,“you know how he gets about the fireside cocoa and chat before bed. For a Dara'khanuk, Cody’s more Ayaska about his rituals than any of us.”

Mak, who was half Dara'khanuk—outsider bear—himself, just grunted and started toward the entrance of our den.

"Speaking of cubs,"I said, steering the conversation back to more pressing matters."Bear Mountain's still in dire need of a midwife with all these pregnant mama bears. Have you given any more thought to my proposal to invite?—"

"You mean your proposal to pretend we’ve got a job opening and then bond bite some random human with the right résumé into becoming our mate against her will?"Mak asked, his tone as sharp as the mountain air.

"Well, when you put it like that, it does sound unethical,"I admitted with a wry wince."But it doesn’t have to be."

"No," Mak snapped.

"But we could solve two problems with one mate—"I began to argue.

"I said no, dammit."Mak's jaw tightened, his black beard bristling."That’s exactly how my father tricked his way into my mother’s maul, and you saw how that turned out."

"Yes, the Ayaska got a damn fine leader in you," I countered, raising both eyebrows.

Mak glared at me, his icy-blue eyes slicing through the soft glow of the rising sun. "You know what I mean."

And yeah… I guess I did. Still, I couldn’t help but worry about fulfilling my own role as Pathkeeper once our clan-wide hibernation ended in the spring.

Mak was a natural leader, but I hadn’t anticipated the weight of my own responsibilities. At the University of British Columbia, where I’d studied veterinary medicine with a focus on wildlife health, overseeing a record number of pregnancies wasn’t exactly part of the syllabus. My single tour of the birth cages at the BC Wildlife Refuge hadn’t remotely prepared me for what lay ahead: a spring full of cubs and a town bursting with anxious, expecting mama bears—none of whom could shift while pregnant.

It was nature’s way of ensuring Bear Spirits didn’t accidentally harm themselves—or their cubs—during gestation. But that didn’t make it any easier for the mothers. The vulnerability chafed at them, layering stress and uncertainty onto what should have been a joyful time. They trusted me to care for them, and I couldn’t let my inexperience risk their futures.

But with every expecting mama bear I saw to, the ache in my chest deepened. They were building futures and nurturing lives. Meanwhile, our maul had no mate, no cubs—no future of our own.

At thirty-three, I was more than ready to start a family with the maul I’d helped Mak form shortly after he’d been unexpectedly named Tuk’Mara instead of his full-Ayaska Canadian Mountie brother. That had been three years ago. Three long years of waiting for a mate who lifted all our noses. And lately, the ache had grown sharper, heavier—impossible to ignore.

That’s why I thought the plan made sense. We needed help—and a mate. Desperately.

But Mak’s jaw was already set in that immovable way of his, shutting down the conversation before it could even begin.

His father’s outsider ways and eventual downfall had left a scar on Mak that he’d been carrying ever since. And no matter how much I wanted to push, I couldn’t add to his burdens—not when I could feel the tension rolling off him through our maul bond.

I let it drop. For now.

As we walked down the stone steps Mak had carved into the main room of our open-plan den himself, the scent of home hit me. The air smelled of cedar and cinnamon, a signature touch from Cody, who couldn’t resist adding spice to everything, even the firewood.

Speaking of which, the fire in the stone-carved hearth was still crackling, casting a warm glow over the room. Cody must have stoked it last night before going to bed, but there was another scent in the air—something rich, dark, and unmistakably chocolatey.

"Yep, he definitely walked home from the grill in bear form again,"I guessed, inhaling deeply."Smells like he whipped up a new cocoa recipe, too. Maybe dark choc?—"

"What the hell is this?"Mak’s voice cut through the cozy atmosphere like a thunderclap.

I stopped walking and talking when I saw what my first maul was staring at.

There, lying unconscious in a makeshift nest of blankets, pillows, and the combined den laundry I’d meant to fold and allot tomorrow, was a woman.

A beautiful woman, actually. Her skin was the color of rich chocolate, melted over large, full breasts with dark black-cherry areolas, curvy hips, and luscious thighs. Even in sleep, her full lips parted as if caught mid-sigh. Thick, dark lashes rested against her round cheekbones, and a cascade of braids fanned down from her face, framing her in a way that made her look almost otherworldly. She was… soft. Soft in a way that stirred something primal deep inside me, even as the logical part of my brain reminded me she might have been hurt.

A pang of protectiveness hit me square in the chest—something I couldn’t blame on my instincts as a doctor. It was deeper, rawer. Followed immediately by a tightening in my stomach as my bear stirred to life, sniffing the air, hungry and curious all at once.

“Ursa’s Claw,”I murmured, trying to suppress the wave of new awareness crashing through me.

Mak stepped closer to the woman, his icy gaze narrowing."She’s got a bite mark on her shoulder,"he growled, his voice low and dangerous."That must mean..."

More Ursa’s Claws spilled from my lips as my pulse quickened. My eyes swept the room, taking in the nest of clothes, the shredded fabric clinging to her otherwise naked body, and the faint trail of snow leading from the door. But most striking of all…

The fresh bite mark on her silky-smooth shoulder, so deep it had broken skin—and left an already healed but permanent and indelible mark.

"I had the best dream last night!"

Before I could say anything else to Mak, Cody emerged from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes."Wait..."His nose twitched, and his stomach let out a loud, unapologetic growl.

“Did one of you decide to make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast? It smells great in here—”His words caught in his throat when his gaze fell on the woman.

He stopped short, his expression morphing from groggy confusion to full-blown horror..

“Oh, shit,”he said, his voice barely above a whisper.“It wasn’t a dream.”