Bear His Mark Read online

  “You’d think it would dampen people’s interest in the fights, but it’s quite brilliant in a number of ways. First is the concept of not alienating more people than necessary. The folks that already have an issue with shifters mixed in with the human population-”

  “Like we haven’t already been a part of the population for thousands of years already,” Hollis sighed.

  “Exactly, but still it’s one thing to bill fights for human ‘looking’ fighters but imagine if videos or pictures came out of animals seemingly mauling each other in a ring, or in this case, a cage.”

  Wincing, Hollis understood. There were still groups of people who saw shifters as monsters and would be more than happy to see them locked away or killed outright. Indelible images of them tearing into each other would be a major problem.

  “And then imagine when they return to their human forms after a fight.”

  Gerri’s point was valid and vastly easy to understand. Shifters didn’t just share their skin and their souls with their other halves, making use of enhanced hearing, smell, taste, and other senses. They tended to be gifted in other ways that made them highly superior to their strictly human counterparts.

  “That’s why the event goers are all required to surrender their phones if they attempt to bring them into the venue. The customers are also subjected to searches for any kind of devices that could record video or take pictures. It keeps the fighters from finding unwanted images online.”

  Pictures or video of a terrifying animal resuming their human forms and displaying what would appear to be exceedingly generous physical proportions of their anatomy… well, competition in human males could end up deadly.

  “So, no cameras,” Hollis nodded, “because the shifters are going to be naked at some point.” Once the words were out of her mouth, she felt a rather unpleasant twist of jealousy in her middle. She hadn’t met Conor, but the idea of other women or men eyeing his naked body certainly didn’t sit well with her.

  Honestly, she couldn’t think of anyone who would like it all that much.

  “It’s so frustrating!”

  Gerri’s laugh turned Hollis’ head. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

  Hollis nodded even though she really had no idea what they were talking about anymore. “I’m sorry, Gerri. I’m just nervous. The closer I get to actually meeting him, the more I want this to work out.”

  “And that’s good,” Gerri insisted. “Always good to be positive.”

  “Good if it works out, there’s that nagging worry that he’ll take one look and he and his bear will literally turn up their noses at me.”

  Gerri’s voice held more than a tinge of laughter in it. “I’m trying not to take your doubt personally. Just do me a teeny, tiny favor and breathe. Just that. When we get to the fight and you two finally meet each other the last thing you’re going to want to do is hyperventilate and pass out in front of your mate.”

  Hollis was a heartbeat away from laughing off the warning when she realized that her heart was pounding in her chest like a frightened doe. Sitting back in her seat she drew in a long breath over a count of three and then let that same breath out over three as she tried to ignore the clipped English accent of Gerri’s GPS program.

  #

  The noise inside the fight venue was incredible! Once an abandoned warehouse, Cage Gamble had turned it into a state-of-the-art fighting venue capable of handling a huge and ravenous crowd.

  So far, they’d been treated to half a dozen fights. The first two were strictly human competitors. After that two young jaguars had started the adrenaline pumping through the crowd.

  The last fight of the night was underway, but only one of the fighters seemed to be focused on riling up the crowd.

  Conor hadn’t even seen the other fighter until they were let into the cage. He’d heard that the other bear shifter had come into Sylvan City over a week and a half before, training to acclimate himself to the time zone and elevation to make sure that he’d be in top shape for the fight.

  None of that mattered to Conor. He trained every day, keeping his focus on the same skills that had kept him alive in the military were every bit as useful in the ring. The one thing he had to keep in mind more than anything else was restraint.

  The point of these fights wasn’t to incapacitate the opponent or to kill.

  Just win.

  And win he did.

  Over and over.

  But this night, there was a different aim. He was waiting for Gerri Wilder to arrive with Hollis. Until then he was having a rather interesting inner war with his bear.

  The beast wanted to wait. He wanted to prowl and preen for their mate. He wanted to tear something apart and lay it at her feet.

  Fortunately for both of them, Conor had enough control over his other side to keep them from eviscerating the announcer when he’d rushed through the introductions.

  He had time.

  As he stalked around the floor of the cage, Conor took stock of the other fighter countering his movements. He could see the eager bunch of the other bear’s muscles under his skin. He wanted a fight too, but he was practiced enough to keep his bear under his skin. That kind of control was hard won, Conor knew that well enough.

  He changed his direction and watched the reaction time of the other fighter.

  Interesting.

  A little hesitation. Either he’d been distracted or a little over eager. Either way, Conor could use it to his advantage.

  “Go ahead,” he told the other man, “make your move.”

  “I do what I want.” The other bear dropped his hands to the waistband of his trunks, pointing to the satin letters sewn into the wide waistband. “I’m the Kodiak.”

  Conor shrugged one shoulder and then the other, keeping his muscles loose. “You’re just the next in a long line to lose to me, whatever your name is.”

  “You don’t have a name,” he nodded at the waist of Conor’s trunks. “Too expensive for a small-town guy?”

  “I’m not here to have someone stare at the front of my shorts. It doesn’t take that long to find my dick.” Conor’s smile ticked at one corner. “Sorry you need the attention.”

  His opponent took a swipe at him and Conor almost yawned. His attention straying toward the entrance.

  Gerri should be arriving any moment.

  The ‘Kodiak’ cuffed him on the arm to pull his attention back to the fight.

  A quick uppercut hit the muscled wall of his abs, but didn’t stop Conor’s attack, making the larger bear suck in a breath.

  “Don’t play, big boy,” Conor warned him, “I don’t dance with your kind.”

  The Kodiak stepped in and landed a solid blow to Conor’s chest. Hard enough for him to feel it and keep his attention on the fight.

  “What ‘kind’ are you talking about? Huh?”

  The private entrance to the warehouse opened at the side and Conor scented the air. Wolf and… heaven.

  Turning away from the larger fighter, Conor grabbed the top rope of the ring and looked through the cage and into the shadows searching for her.

  For everything.

  Voices from the crowd called to him and he waved them off with a pointed look.

  Knuckles cuffed his shoulder blade.

  “Come on and fight.”

  “Give yourself a minute,” Conor tossed the comment over his shoulder, “you’re going to need it.”

  And then again, he was going to need it too.

  Gerri Wilder’s unmistakable silver hair shone like the moon in the venue lights and then Conor caught sight of the woman standing beside her.

  And that one look. That one second, stole the breath from his lungs.

  Hollis.

  He’d heard her name, said it hundreds of times in the last twelve hours, felt it on his tongue and whispered it into the silence of his home while he was waiting to meet the woman… the mate who would fill the same gaping silence with her breathy sighs and heated moans.

  And Ho
llis was there, in the same room.

  It didn’t matter that there were a few dozen people between them, he’d fight as many as it took to get to her side.

  She was a dream. A skirt that ended near her knees, giving him a flirting look at her legs, was topped by a loose blouse that did nothing to hide her luscious curves from his hungry gaze.

  And hungry he was.

  For the tiniest of tastes.

  Tongue against skin.

  And-

  #

  “Oh no!” Hollis grabbed onto Gerri’s arm. “That man hit him!”

  When Gerri didn’t reply, Hollis looked at her. “That wasn’t fair, was it?” She pointed toward the cage at the center of the room that looked like it belonged in some kind of dystopian, Mad Max Thunderdome scenario. “Shouldn’t the referee throw a flag or something?”

  Gerri shrugged and gestured a hand toward the cage.

  The referee shook his head and snapped his fingers at Conor. “You paying attention now?”

  Hollis watched as Conor slid another look at her, his eyes trailing over her body in such a way she felt like it was a physical touch, raising tiny little goosebumps all over her flesh.

  The referee laughed out loud. “Come on, man. Show your woman what you’re made of in the ring so you can take her home and show her what you’re made of in bed.”

  Hollis should be mortified that the whole crowd heard the man’s words. She should be even more upset about the look of irritation on the other fighter’s face. He looked like he wanted to rip Conor apart. Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Go on, Conor.” She murmured her words under her breath. “Kick the stuffing out of that bear.”

  Conor smiled as if he heard her words through the bellowing of the crowd.

  And based on the nasty look the other fighter sent her way, they’d both heard it.

  Conor turned to face the other man fully. He gave him a slight nod like a gentleman acknowledging his opponent. “You heard the lady, teddy bear. I’m going to rip you apart.”

  #

  Now Hollis may have been raised in a remote village for almost her entire life, but she’d seen her share of battles between bears.

  It was the natural order of things. Every shifter species trained for the fights that the human sides of their natures should be trying to avoid, but humans were almost as martial as the animals were.

  Maybe more.

  And she’d seen fights that crossed the line into animalistic rage where mayhem was the only word that could seem to encompass the ferocity of the bloodshed.

  But none of that prepared her for the fight happening in front of her eyes.

  Blow after blow was landed by both men in the cage. Each felt the impact and she felt them as well. When the other fighter managed to land a blow against Conor she felt anger rising up within her, lapping at her skin like a rising tide.

  And when Conor landed a blow she felt a rush of pride and heat surged through her veins. It wasn’t the cold lick of anger, but something else entirely.

  She knew that Gerri was still standing beside her, saying something, but Hollis could only concentrate on the fight before her.

  The two were trading blows in earnest. The Kodiak, Conor’s opponent, had a longer reach than Conor. He had a size advantage in both mass and muscle.

  And there was something in the set of his eyes that gave her both an extra measure of fear as well as anger. He was planning something. Building up to something.

  Then, there was Conor.

  He looked like a mountain, tall and broad… and immovable.

  He took blows but he withstood them. He bled, but the blood he drew flowed free and thick down the furred chest of his opponent.

  Conor was magnificent.

  He was fierce.

  And focused.

  And she hoped it had something to do with the fact that she was there.

  Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, Conor turned his head and gave her a look.

  There was a trickle of blood across his chin, but the look in his eyes made her heart beat faster, the blood in her veins pulse and heat.

  And that was when it happened.

  The moment when his opponent took things a step further.

  The Kodiak’s hand swept through the air, but when it connected with Conor, it was massive! Black claws and fur dominated her vision, with dark pads where palm and fingertips had been.

  The multiple trails of blood drops flying through the air were flung from those claws and when Conor staggered back a step Hollis’ hands clenched at her sides, her nails biting into her palms.

  Conor’s opponent had shifted. Where a man had stood a few moments before, a bear filled the space and then some.

  “Goodness,” Gerri gasped beside her, “I bet he’s over eight feet tall!”

  Hollis kept her eyes on the two in the cage. The shifted bear towered over Conor who was still in his human form.

  A roar of challenge momentarily sent a hush over the gathered crowd and then the assembled customers began to shout and stamp their feet.

  Even they could tell that there was something unique about to happen.

  Hollis could feel it too. Years of watching shifters fight in and out of human form made her a bit of an expert, but even she felt more than a measure of surprise when Conor rushed the enraged Kodiak bear without shifting.

  “What is he doing?”

  Gerri’s shock was echoed by others in the crowd, but Hollis couldn’t tear her attention away from the fight to even begin to answer her.

  Leaning in close, Conor landed a few blows to the middle of the bear, the last almost lifting the bear up onto the claws of his hind feet.

  The crowd cheered and Hollis was sure she could feel the concrete floor beneath her feet vibrate with energy when the bear staggered back and almost sprawled onto his backside in the ring.

  Conor didn’t press his advantage. He waited for the bear to roll to his side and get up. It was an honorable move in the fight, but some of the audience members would rather see bloodshed.

  When the Kodiak was on all fours again it brought home the size differences in the two. The Kodiak’s shoulder and head were chest high to Conor, likely five feet high.

  She could tell by the way the bear’s muscles bunched in his massive shoulders that he was about to move.

  For a moment, she considered calling out a warning, but that wouldn’t do. She didn’t want the Kodiak or anyone else to think she didn’t have faith in Conor.

  And even though they had yet to speak to each other, she had faith in him.

  There was something in the way he held himself. Something in the feral grace of his movements that said he wasn’t just gorgeous, he was a warrior of skill.

  And Hollis knew what was about to happen.

  Conor set one foot back and bent down, using his powerful legs to make himself smaller as he awaited the charge from the other bear.

  And charge he did.

  There wasn’t much space in the caged ring for two bear shifters in their human form, but in a contained space with even one of them still human, it was a tight fit.

  There wasn’t enough room for the Kodiak to build up any speed or gain much momentum, but he had size and brute force on his side.

  He was over Conor before Hollis could swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, and all she saw was a wall of thick brown fur beyond the chain link fencing.

  The crowd hushed for a moment as they all listened to the deep reverberating growl from deep within an ursine throat.

  “Come on, Conor.” Hollis had no idea if anyone could hear her, but it didn’t really matter. She needed to say the words. “Win.”

  A howl started from within the large mass of muscle and fur in the center of the cage, and the fur surrounding it seemed to vibrate and shudder.

  Something akin to a heavy bearskin robe was lifted and tossed through the air. The smaller bear, and that was only an observation in comparative size, because t
he grizzly standing upright in the cage was savagely beautiful. Even the tears in fur and flesh were healing up like magic, but the blood and injuries did nothing to diminish the pride she felt.

  And yes, the hunger.

  Something no other bear had ever made her feel.

  When she turned her head, Hollis saw the Kodiak prone and motionless against the cage. It gave her a rush of pride to see Conor’s opponent sprawled and out like a light.

  She turned to look at the fighter standing victorious in the center of the ring and wondered if he could read her feelings in her eyes.

  #

  He felt her eyes on him and he told his bear to behave.

  Behave?

  The bear’s tone was already pushing on his nerves, but there wasn’t much he could do beyond voicing his complaint.

  In the form of his bear, Conor was the voice in his head, not the one in control of him… themselves.

  The bear turned to see the crowd on their feet, raising their arms in celebration, sloshing quite a bit of beer onto themselves and each other.

  His bear loved the adoration of the crowd, but as he stood there basking in the rush of applause and screams, he turned to focus on the one person that he… that they really wanted to impress.

  Hollis.

  Standing beside Gerri Wilder, she was unmistakable and breathtaking.

  With the roar of the crowd, Hollis was a solitary beacon in the storm. Bears of his kind weren’t seafarers in any way, but he would cross oceans to reach her now that he knew her.

  As he waited for security to open the gate and for the medical personnel to reach the unconscious shifter behind him, he focused on her.

  Only her.

  With the gate clear of interference, his bear dropped down to all fours and padded out of the cage.

  He took the few steps down with an ease that nature didn’t afford bears on their own. It was also his preternatural restraint that kept his pace even and measured.

  His speed served two aims. First, to keep the armed security from firing on him thinking he was rushing a human. Especially a woman.

  And second, pure masculine ego. He wanted her to see his bear. He wanted her to be proud of the bear they were. He wanted her to approve of their size, their strength.