3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Stephanie

I jerk upright and look around wildly. Fuck, I actually slept. I scramble for my phone, which is ringing. I unlock it and see that Breeane called five times, and my sister replied to my message with relief that I arrived safely, plus no less than ten hearts and sad faces. She was happy for me, yet didn't want to let go.

Shit, I slept through the morning, and it's creeping towards afternoon.

I hit Breeane's name and call her back.

"Hey, girl, you awake?" she asks.

"Sorry, I slept in." I rub my face and brush my hand through my hair.

"You needed the rest. When you didn't answer, I went to breakfast with my mates," she informs me.

"I'm glad you didn't wait for me." I push the blankets off.

"After we ate, the guys went to work, and I went shopping."

"Are you still in town?"

"Yes." She pauses. "Ava is with me."

"She is?" I put my hand over my neck. Ava is a wolf shifter who was kidnapped and brought to the games. She was human at the time, taken to lure River, her wolf shifter mate, back to the Games. River's uncle was the man running it, and wanted him back. Ava was put in a cage beside me, and I was the first to speak to her. I wasn't very friendly, and I regret how I spoke to her because she was the reason we were rescued.

"We thought you would like to see her before tonight," she says hesitantly.

I close my eyes. "That's a good idea." I swallow hard.

"We are right down the street," she says. I jump up. "We can wait in the bakery until you are ready."

"Umm…" Shit. I race to the door, fumbling with the lock, and burst into the bedroom.

"Don't rush. We can wait."

"Okay." I drop to my knees by my bag. "I won't be long."

"See you in a few." She hangs up, and I throw my phone over my shoulder, and it bounces on the bed.

I bundle a pair of jeans, an oversized black sweatshirt, underwear, and a clean bra in my arms. Glancing at the door to make sure it is still locked, I run into the bathroom.

I dump everything on the counter, move to the shower, and adjust the water to scalding. I fold my pajamas and am grateful there is a laundry basket in the corner to put my dirty bra and panties in.

Breeane thought of everything. My brand of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are ready for me on the shelves of the shower, and a new razor is hanging from the rack under the showerhead. She is the best sister, which I would never admit to my blood sister. Gabby is my younger sister and wonderful, but I have more of a mother-daughter type of relationship with her.

When I decided to move, I wanted Breeane to come with me, and I'm lucky she was open to it. The bakery is her dream, but I know she hates the business side of opening her own place. I went to school for business and received my associate degree, which I have hardly used. At least I can contribute somehow because I can't bake like she can. Thinking of being under a time limit to make things for an order makes me hyperventilate. I can cook a little, but I do not do well under pressure.

I finish washing my body and make sure the shampoo is out of my hair before adding conditioner. My hair used to be above my shoulders, but I have been trying to let it grow. It reaches just below now and has a natural wave. I wanted to look different after I was back home, however I could.

I leave the shower and find towels in the cupboard beside the sink.

The bakery door opens, and I pick up my pace.

The best way to describe my style is comfortable. I usually wear jeans, sweatshirts, tanks, and T-shirts. I slide on one of my favorite pairs of light blue jeans with holes scattered in them.

Brushing my hair quickly, I pull my shirt over my head. It hangs off one shoulder and bunches at my hips. I don't bother with makeup because I don't want to take the time to find and apply it.

Sitting on the bed, I slip on socks and boots.

I reach for the door handle but pause. Am I ready to see her?

I left this town as fast as I could. I didn't look back. Now look at me. I was nervous and shaky at the thought of seeing the woman responsible for my freedom.

Shaking my head, I leave the room. I don't let myself stop moving as I swipe the keys off the table, unlock the front door, and relock it after I pass through.

I slowly descend the stairs, and my foot hovers on the next step when I hear Ava's familiar voice.

Closing my eyes, I am transported back. I was awake when they carried her unconscious body to the cage beside mine. I stared as they threw her inside, not caring if they hurt her or if it jolted her awake. The sound of the door clanging shut and the lock engaging brings tears to my eyes even now. I looked at her and felt so freaking sad. I was also surprised that they took a human. She hadn't been turned by her wolf mates yet.

In the beginning, I would give anyone new a rundown of what to expect and introduce myself. It gave me a sense of normalcy. It seems silly now. We still had our independence taken away. We still had to live in a small cage, eating the dog food, sleeping with no cover, and hiding as well as we could when they decided to hunt us.

It didn't take long for my welcoming speech to turn monotone. Ava's welcome was the last speech I gave. I am grateful, yet sorry she was at the receiving end of my hopelessness. I was also angry that she was so sure she would be rescued. There was an instant in which I wanted to break her down as much as we were.

Guilt slides through me.

I open my eyes when I hear her laughter.

I resume my steps, knowing I can't hide forever. I need to face her and my guilt.

Their laughter cuts off as I round the corner. Ava is a wolf shifter now, and I can smell the change, but her human scent is still under the surface. She has pretty brown hair that flows just past her shoulders. Her light brown eyes are filled with understanding and kindness.

"Stephanie," she smiles and walks over. "You look beautiful."

"You can call me Steph," I tell her, studying her cautiously. I don't see any hesitance in her expression. "You aren't upset?" I blurt.

She jerks back. "Why would I be upset with you?"

"Shit," I mumble. I shouldn't have said anything, but now that I started, I have to explain. "I wanted to apologize. The way I talked to you was harsh, especially since you saved us all. You saved me from the man that was chasing you." A man used me as a shield to coax Ava from a tree where she was hiding. She gave herself up so I could get away.

"Steph, no," she says, reaching for my hands.

I hesitantly put my hands in hers. "It's been playing in my head ever since. I was glad he didn't hurt you. If you would have stayed hidden, he couldn't do anything to you."

"You have it all wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for. I know being there for a short time was horrifying; I can't imagine being there as long as you were." She steps close. "I need you to know I don't hold anything against you. I would do it all again if it meant I could help you and all the others."

I let out a rough breath. "I want to thank you. Thank you for having hope."

"You're welcome, but you don't have to thank me." She squeezes my hands. "If I hadn't been taken, it's possible Logan wouldn't have met Breeane."

"And that would have been a shame," Breeane chimes in.

"True," I whisper.

"How are you? I was thrilled to know you were friends with Breeane." Ava looks between us.

"I'm coping. I am working to be better," I admit.

"I am here for you. I was only there for a short time, but I had nightmares for months. I understand some of what you are feeling."

"I appreciate it. I have to work through it; I'll be alright." I slip my hands into my back pockets.

"I can't wait for the bakery to be done. River will be your best customer. Revel was excited to spend the morning at the garage with her dads," she says. I raise a brow. "Revel is my daughter. I told her we were going shopping and she wanted to go to work with Kerian and River. That girl is her daddies' girl." She sighs. "She hates shopping."

"They are so cute with her, though," Breeane says.

"I would love to meet her." I lean against the counter, my tension draining .

"She's coming to the party tonight," Ava says.

"I need to get the food in a couple of hours. Do you want to come?" Breeane asks.

"Sure." The twist of fear in my stomach is slowly loosening. I was nervous about the party and facing Logan and Ava.

The difficult part is over. I can handle being around vampires and other shifters.

It's time to start living again.

I have been around shifters and an occasional vampire my whole life, but I have never seen a group of them as gorgeous as this crew. It was difficult to tear my eyes off the vampire called Bash. He has white hair and startling eyes. I hoped he wouldn't find it uncomfortable how much I stared, but all he could see was his mate, Marie. She is a gorgeous blonde with tattoos covering one of her arms, and her devotion to her mate is evident with every movement.

I finally met Lucas and Las, Breeane's other mates, and I have to say, she is a lucky girl. They are wonderful with her and watch her with love and hunger. I approve.

I had heard about multiple mates but hadn't been around any within our small bear shifter community. Shit, take your pick of your type, and they are in the room .

Ava's little girl is precious and goes equally from her two dads' hands. Kerian and River are adorable with her, as Breeane said.

Breeane told me dragon shifters were here, but her description didn't do them justice. Bishop and Laken are stunning. She told me they were twins, but you just can't imagine it until you see them in person. They are powerful. I shivered as their eyes met mine. Any shifter would be hesitant around someone that rare. I had never met a dragon before and only heard stories from other shifters. They are both mated to Penny, who has turned into one of their kind. Their sister, Saphira, is kind and beautiful. She lights up the room with her aura.

Elijah, a cheetah shifter, hadn't taken his arm away from his mate, Saylor. She is pregnant and glowing, basking in her cowboy mate.

"They are kind of sickeningly beautiful, aren't they?" Sally says as I turn my attention to her.

I stood behind the counter, staring at everyone, waiting to refill my glass and didn't notice her approach. Breeane introduced us, but I haven't talked to her since. She is a rabbit shifter and besides Saphira and I, the only person in the room who isn't mated. I have heard many stories about rabbits being crazy as fuck.

"It is startling," I agree, taking a sip.

"The only thing that's missing is the panthers and the dark beauty of Ryker." She sighs.

"His mate sold us the bakery. I hoped to meet him." Breeane repeatedly told me how beautiful Ryker is, and how his powerful presence commands a room. The panthers are the ones who started this group.

"Good luck getting him to leave the house. His mate just gave birth. He has barricaded them at his place. The only one who has been allowed in is Bash. The rest of us have had to make do with pictures Serenity has sent us."

"That's wonderful," I say.

"Picture a dangerous vampire times a hundred," she snorts.

I smile. "I'm happy for them," I say softly. Sally turns knowing eyes my way. I shift under her stare.

"You've been through it, girl," she says bluntly.

"No more than anyone else." My smile turns strained. I was grateful that everyone greeted me normally. I know they all are aware of what I went through. I have heard whispers of rabbits being able to tell the future, and the way she is looking at me, I believe it.

"Hmm…" She suddenly smiles. "You'll be fine."

"I think so," I mumble.

"Do you want a family?" she asks, waving toward all the mated shifters.

"Doesn't everyone?" I ask.

"We all hope for the universe to gift us."

"You aren't mated?"

"No," she whispers, her face resolved. "I'm having fun chasing around all the single shifters in this town, though," she says with a sultry smile.

I laugh, humor coming easier. "I'm glad you are having a good time." Sally has short blonde hair and a killer body. Her short skirt shows off her toned, glistening legs, which anyone would be lucky to be wrapped in. I can't figure out her age. She looks like she's in her thirties or forties, but as shifters, we age slowly, so she could be much older.

"Does your family plan to visit?" She grabs a handful of popcorn.

"Not for a while."

"You sound grateful," she says around the kernels.

"It's not that. They are great, and I love them, but I haven't been alone for months." I cringe, the twinge of guilt hitting me.

"That's what you want? To be alone?"

"I—" It's hard to explain. Why do I feel compelled to?

"I understand." She nods and reaches for more food .

How can she when I don't? I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans. "Is it true rabbits can see the future?"

"Sometimes. Let's just say I get a powerful impression when I meet someone."

I frown. That doesn't explain anything. "An impression?" I tilt my head.

"Do you have any grouchy bears in your family?"

I blink. "My uncles."

"So you are used to it?"

"I guess." This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had.

"That's good," she mutters.

"Is it?" I ask with a laugh.

"How about a mysterious past?" she asks.

"My uncles having one?" I wrinkle my nose.

"Anyone," she says.

"Everyone has a past," I say slowly.

"Uh-huh." She stares out the front window.

"Are you alright?" I follow her line of sight and see a shadow move.

"Prepare yourself," she whispers.

"What?" I ask, but she takes three giant steps away. I pull my hands from my pockets and rest them on the counter.

"You came." Breeane's words break through my confusion seconds before the scent of a bear shifter does.

I slowly turn my head, and a gasp leaves my lips as his presence fills the room.

My mate.

I freeze when he takes one step, then another, his focus centered on me. A low, constant growl comes from deep within his chest. He is bigger than any of my family. His shoulders are broad and strong. The long sleeves of his black shirt are stretched tight against the muscle he can't hide.

He has brown hair, so dark it's verging on black. His eyes are stunning. His eyelashes are black and long, highlighting his unusual eyes. They are green, but one is darker than the other.

"What's wrong?" Breeane asks, her eyes bouncing around the room.

I don't have control over my body. Heat spreads over my face, my neck, and down my body. My nails dig into the tile, gripping hard to keep my body from moving forward.

"Baby, come here," Las says, urging Breeane to move away from my mate. He can sense that Quinn is meant to be mine. I'm sure it was the same for him when he met Breeane.

"You're Stephanie," the bear shifter says. I open my mouth to respond, yet no sound comes out, so I nod instead. "I'm Quinn." His voice is deep and husky, sending a shiver down my spine.

I remember Breeane talking about him.

"Quinn," Bash says.

"Fuck off, vampire," Quinn replies. He takes his gaze away for a second to glare threateningly at Bash.

"You know," Bash says.

"I know, and I said fuck off. Trust me." Quinn takes a step closer, and the hair on my arms raises.

I don't know what their short conversation meant but Bash was warning him away. I don't like that. My bear is suddenly clawing at my chest, wanting to be close to her mate.

She has been quiet within me for months, but decides to wake up in the presence of her mate. The human side is cautious but can't help feeling the same need.

"Steph?" Breeane asks.

"I'm fine," I say .

Quinn moves slowly toward me, watching me closely, his body attuned to every small move I make. His jaw is stiff, the grinding of his jaw visibly jumping as he makes steady progress toward me. My chest rises faster the closer he gets. He stops, but is close enough that if he reaches out his hand, he could grab me.

"You are mine," he rumbles. "Mate."

"Yes," I whisper. His scent surrounds me and oddly brings me comfort. Humans would never understand the pull that shifters feel when meeting their mates.

"Do not let her come near me," Quinn snaps over his shoulder, and I notice Breeane fighting her mate's hold.

"Breeane, stop," I say quickly. "Stay by your mates."

"I don't want you hurt," she whispers, and I understand her worry. She has been a protector to me.

"He won't hurt me," I say softly, knowing the words are true. She should understand, but she's just reacting instead of thinking like a shifter. A mate would rather die than inflict any pain on the person the universe picked for them.

Quinn slowly holds out his hand, his palm up. "It's your choice to take it."

I drop my eyes to his hand and then back to his face. He's giving me the choice. Even though I'm sure his body is telling him to take his mate. The room is silent. The shifters and vampires that fill it, knowing the heaviness of the moment. Everyone knows what I have been through. They know Quinn. Ultimately, if they didn't trust him, or if he was a bad guy, they wouldn't all stand idle waiting for my decision.

Quinn is patiently waiting.

I inch away from the counter, prying my hands off it, and they drop to my sides. I slowly bring them to my chest, pausing. I bite my lip, and his eyes track the movement .

As I slowly move my right hand, his eye drops to it.

My fingertips meet his, the warmth he exudes seeping through my skin. I slide closer, my hand naturally moving over his palm. When my fingers slide against his thumb, he grips it.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "Good girl."

Pleasure flushes my face. "Quinn—" I start, but I have no idea what I was going to say.

"Leave," he commands, looking around for the first time since he walked in.

"Quinn," Logan says. "Are you sure?"

"I already told the vampire. Leave now."

"Steph, call me if you need me," Breeane says as her mates pull her toward the door.

"Lock the door on the way out," Quinn continues to boss. He pulls on my hand.

I mindlessly follow. He doesn't pause as he moves through the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Keys?" He holds his free hand out. I quickly dig into my pocket, fumbling with them, and place them in his palm.

I continue to allow him to lead me into my new home and watch as he locks the door behind us and pockets the keys.

"Did you eat?" he asks.

"No." There was plenty of food, but my stomach hadn't settled enough to eat any of it.

He puts his hand on my back and guides me to the island. "Sit." He doesn't wait for me to climb on the stool, grasping my waist, and he puts me on the chair.

The contact of his hands was brief but powerful, feeling electric on my skin. I can still feel the impression of his fingers as he moves to the other side of the counter and opens the fridge. It has been hard to imagine the moment I meet my mate. Every story is as different as the shifters. The universe throws two or more people together, and you know you are meant to be. We know in the first instant that we are mates. It starts with a scent. We know by smell that we are mates, and that starts a reaction, a knowing in our bodies.

A shifter woman will automatically go into heat. Their mate is the only one who can ease it by giving her an orgasm in any way possible. The most effective is by the man coming inside her. It is the universe's way of continuing the species.

The heat flushes my skin and makes me aware of his every move.

He takes several things out of the fridge, and it takes my preoccupied brain a minute to catch up. He's making me a sandwich.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"No." He places a bottle of water in front of me. I look from the bottle to the man slapping together pieces of bread. "Do you like everything on it?"

"Yes," I reply, watching him with interest. He's sexy. The quiet confidence he naturally carries is appealing, with or without a mating bond itching at my neck. He puts two sandwiches on a plate and sets them in front of me. "Eat with me," I urge.

He nods and starts making more sandwiches.

I start eating but keep my eyes on him. Bears have a reputation for being slow and lazy. I'm sure some are, but most are just reserved. We measure each step carefully, aware of our bodies and what our bears can do if provoked. Quinn moves fluidly, with no wasted movements. We are often underestimated because of this. It would be someone's demise if they did. We are territorial and vicious if pushed. When we love, we love deeply .

Whether you are a male or female bear shifter, our bodies are massive. Our teeth are razor sharp, and our claws are long. If we can't stop you with our bodies, our teeth and claws will tear you to pieces.

Our homes are our sanctuaries, our safe places; we will guard them and the people we love to the death.

I reach for my plate and realize I ate both sandwiches while staring at Quinn.

"More?" he asks. His plate is also empty.

"No, thank you." I smile slightly in appreciation. It was the best meal I have had for a very long time.

He nods and cleans off the counter. I watch. I watch the muscles of his back flex as he cleans the plates. If I could have pictured my mate, he would be what I would have wanted. I wonder if the universe knew I needed to come back here to meet Quinn.

The long silences feel natural and not strained. I feel the mating bond expanding. The more we are around each other, the more it will bind us. The goal is to make us unable to live without each other. It pushes us to complete the bond, the ultimate goal. We have to bite each other, leaving a mark for all the world to see and tying us together forever. Usually, this is done during sex, the male shifter leaving his seed and his bite in the woman.

The thought brings another wave of heat over my body. Just thinking about Quinn's large body covering mine—fuck.

The heat doesn't care if we know nothing about or even like each other. It demands acceptance.

"Are you tired?" My vision comes back into focus.

"A little," I confess. The drive took so much energy.

"Come," he says, holding out his hand.

I put my hand in his, and he pulls me around the counter. I love the feel of his skin on mine. It calms me. His hands are big and completely cover my smaller ones.

He stops inside my bedroom, and in that second, I realize I didn't put the blankets back on the bed. My head slowly turns in horror to the closet where his attention is centered. Panic wells in my chest.

My eyes widen.

My secret.

My shame.

Now he knows.

Why would he want such a fucked-up mate?

"Steph," he snaps. "Eyes," he demands. His tone gives me no choice but to look at him. "I want to make a few things clear." He steps close, his palm cupping the side of my neck, and I tip back my head. "You are my mate. I don't care that we don't know everything about each other. I feel the pull. I want you to be my mate. You will have a choice, but I became yours the minute I saw you and smelled you. We will have years to get to know everything we need to. I won't pressure you to complete the bond, but if it were up to me, I would mark you tonight." He squeezes my neck.

"I have things in my past that I will reveal over time. Some may be shocking, horrifying even. I will ask you to have an open mind and take me at face value when I say I will never leave you. I will accept all that you are. I will give you time to adjust to your new reality. I am yours. You are mine. However long it takes. I hope you believe that." He eliminates the space between us. "I am demanding, in and out of the bedroom. I like the control. I like to be obeyed. We will have many conversations about that, but not tonight. I won't fuck you tonight. If you need me to relieve the heat that I can feel and smell hitting you, I will, in another way." He kisses my forehead and moves away. "For tonight, let our new relationship sink in. All I want to do is sleep next to you, so get ready for bed."

I stare. The panic is gone. A confusing mix of emotions is swirling inside instead: desire, confusion, curiosity, eagerness, and hesitancy. But I don't fear him.

He reaches for the neck of his shirt, and I scramble away.

I quickly find a pair of flannel pajamas and run into the bathroom. I shut the door and press my palms on it. I take several deep breaths. I remember the reason I was panicked—the closet. I have to prepare myself to sleep on the bed with him.

I throw my clothes in the laundry basket and hurry to get dressed. I go through my bedtime routine and am done way too soon.

I cautiously open the door and peek into the bedroom. The bed is still bare, and my heart thuds. The bedroom door is still shut, so he either left or—I look to the closet.

Would he?

My bear's eyes clearly see him lying on the floor, his arms under his head, and his eyes closed.

"Turn the light off," he says, and I click it off. "I made sure the doors are locked." The covers rustle as he pushes them to make space. "Come to bed."

I want to cry. My chest is tight. Every word to describe how I'm feeling evaporates except one.

Safe.