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  "You are going to be okay," he said, offering a small smile. "You're going to be okay."

  ***

  When Andre stopped at the bus station, Mary froze. She couldn't do this. What was she doing? Andre was right, she didn't know anything about the human world! She didn't have an education. She didn't have any money except for what was in the Ziploc bag. She didn't even know what kind of work she could get!

  Nonsense, she told herself. I am a hard worker who can do anything that needs to be done around a house. They'll be lucky to have me.

  As she opened the door, Andre reached out and caught her hand. Her heart lifted, a flood of emotions coursing through her as the hope made itself manifest; that he would ask her to stay, or that he would go with her, that he would say the three words that had been on her lips for months now.

  "Here," he pressed a credit card into her hand. "The PIN is 3830. Use it whenever you need to."

  She nodded silently, not trusting her voice. Let me stay. But she couldn't if he didn't want her to. And he had told her that he couldn't give her his life. What else was she expecting? His wife and daughter brutally murdered. His grief was too much for him to commit to anybody else, that much was obvious. Besides, he didn't believe in soulmates. Even if she told him that he was hers, he just wouldn't believe it.

  Her own soul felt like it was splitting down the middle, but she slipped out of the truck and closed the door firmly behind herself. I will not cry.

  Not until she was safely out of sight, at least.

  ***

  Andre watched her go. He waited for her to turn around, to run back, but her head was held high as she walked away. He had expected that she would come back. He had braced himself for the possibility, practiced making her leave.

  What he didn't expect was the soul-numbing pain of watching her walk away and not have her turn back, not even once. A swell of panic beat hard against his chest. She was walking away, and he would never see her again. Never hear her voice. Never taste her lips. He had been so busy worrying about revenge and letting her go that he never took the time to stop and memorize her. What did she smell like? How did her brows pinch together when she was concentrating?

  I can't.

  He lurched from the truck, heart in his throat. "Mary!"

  She was at the doors but at his shout turned. Andre dashed across the pavement, running as hard as he could. He couldn't let her go. It was selfish and stupid, but he couldn't let her go!

  "Mary!"

  She hadn't moved by the time he got to her. Her breaths were short, rapid, a wide-eyed look on her face that told him she wasn't letting herself hope. He reached for her but suddenly felt shy and let his arms drop.

  "Mary," he said yet again.

  She didn't speak.

  "I don't want you to go." Saying it out loud was like the sun breaking through a cloudy day. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. "I don't want you to go. I love you!"

  Her fingers tangled in his hair and then she was kissing him. It was all the answer he needed. All the answer he wanted. "I love you," he moaned between kisses, wanting every inch of her to know how much he loved her, wanted her. "I love you. I love you!"

  Mary laughed. "I love you, too."

  ***

  "We're going east together," Mary grinned as she said it.

  Happiness bubbled in her chest, making her feel like she was floating, rather than driving along the dirt road that was taking them back to the cabin. They were going to get the animals and Andre's favorite books, and then they would be gone. Far, far away where they could be together forever.

  Andre glanced over at her, laughing. "That's the third time you've said that."

  "I know. I just like saying it."

  She bounced in her seat, eager to get to the cabin and gather their things; to start a new life, her, Andre and whatever may come.

  "Do you think we should load up tonight or wait for the morning?" The sun was already behind the mountain, bathing the land in the blue gleam of twilight.

  "Tonight," Andre didn't hesitate. "The sooner we get out of here—"

  He cut off. When she saw what he saw, she gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth. Andre slammed on the brakes, making them both jerk against their seatbelts.

  Where the cabin had stood was now a pile of blackened wood. Mary felt like she was in some sort of insane nightmare. What had happened? They had let the fire go out overnight, and before they left that morning, Andre had stirred the coals to make sure that they were cold. Had something gone wrong with the electricity? But no. There was no smoke rising from the ruins. Somebody would have had to have put out the fire and if they had done that…

  Andre suddenly bolted from the truck. Mary scrambled to follow him as he ran full-tilt towards the barn. The door was already open. Somehow, she knew what they were going to find inside.

  The sheep and the goat were all dead. They were torn open, blood soaking into the hay. The smell rose nauseatingly, and Mary choked back vomit. She turned away, gagging and choking. The silence was heavy, and eventually she looked back to see Andre standing in the middle of his animals, shoulders slumped, head bowed.

  She slowly went to him, reaching to touch his shoulder. He pulled away. The little lamb was at his feet. Mary knelt, hand trembling as she reached for it. Its body was cold.

  "Who could have done this?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She pulled the butchered corpse into her arms and rocked it, feeling cold through her whole body.

  Andre's answer was more growl than voice. "Paul Locke. That's who did this." He turned to Mary and with a thrill of horror she saw his eyes were completely black, the way they were when he embraced his Bear. "Your father did this."

  *****

  TO BE CONTINUED

  Continue to follow Mary and Andre in “Heart of Werebear (Shades of Werewolf Series Book 2)”

  Bonus Book 2: Heart of Werebear (Shades of Werewolf Series Book 2)

  By: T.S. Ryder

  Description

  Her Wolf loves his Bear, but will his thirst for revenge drive her away?

  This is the second part of the hot 5-part “Shades of Werewolf” series.

  When Mary Locke met Andre Mitchel, the Wolf inside her sang and she knew she had found her soulmate. Though he was a Bear, an enemy to the Wolves of her community, they found happiness together that Mary thought would last forever.

  But when Andre blames Mary's father for the destruction of his farm, Mary sees a dangerous, angry side to him she had not seen before. It leaves her wondering–if she can't forgive her soulmate, what is left for her?

  Andre's life has been consumed by the desire for revenge on the men who killed his wife and daughter. He never intended on falling in love with Mary, but life without her seems bleak and empty. He must choose between her and revenge–but it might already be too late.

  Chapter One

  The frozen earth was difficult to dig into. The shovel cracked down the middle after fifteen minutes and Andre Mitchell threw it away, embracing his Bear to continue his task. His breath crystallized in bursts as his claws gouged the earth. The smell of blood and death hung around him, so heavy that he couldn't smell the Wolf that had done this.

  After several hours, his shoulders felt like they were about to be dislocated and his paws hurt so bad they were numb, but he was done. He suppressed his Bear, becoming human in form again, and turned reluctantly. Mary was still kneeling on the muddy ground, her arms wrapped around the little lamb that she had helped deliver four months ago. Tears rolled down her cheeks and that hurt his heart, almost as badly as seeing his little flock of sheep and goat senselessly butchered and left to rot.

  The same way he killed Isadore and Eve.

  Fury kindled in his chest, making his Bear roar for blood. Andre closed his eyes and held it back–for now. He had to take care of this first. Revenge would come later, and it would be sweet.

  Mary looked up as he approached. "You really think my
father did this?"

  Andre swallowed down a bitter reply. Silently he picked up the goat's corpse and took it to the grave. The water-drenched remains of the cabin he lived in with his wife and daughter before they were murdered caught his eye. Paul Locke had been very deliberate in destroying it. There was still a faint scent of gasoline in the air, but no smoke or heat rose from scorched wood.

  He will pay.

  He would pay for this, and he would pay for what he had done to Isadore and Eve. Andre's gaze fell on Mary again as she stumbled to her feet, bringing the little lamb to the grave. She laid it in next to the goat, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Mary Locke, Paul's eldest child.

  Was it a coincidence that she appeared in his life just when he was about to unleash his Bear on the man who had killed his wife and daughter? He had put off his plans for months because of her presence.

  She claimed to have been running from the Wolf community. Her stories had rung true. It made sense, the way the community treated their children, especially their daughters, that she'd want to run. They married them off young, kept them undereducated and all but locked in their houses. Paul Locke was especially hard on his daughters. Andre had seen that for himself. Mary's story was so utterly believable that he never doubted it.

  But it was not long after that when Locke revealed he knew about Andre's surveillance system in the forest. And when Andre tried to persuade Mary to leave so that he could finally have his revenge without risking her, she convinced him to let her stay. She talked of soulmates and her eyes shone with love when she looked at him. Or was it all a trick?

  Of course it wasn't, a voice said in his mind. She loves you. She doesn't know what her father did. Leave this place now before they come back and it's too late. Go with her.

  They could be together. They could be happy. Locke burning down his house, killing his sheep and goat was all revenge because he wasn't there. Locke had been after him, not his animals. And it was his own fault that he left the farm unprotected. He knew Locke knew he was there. If Andre left now, he would have Mary with him for the rest of his life.

  How many times had he told himself that he needed to make Mary leave so that he could do what he needed to do? As many times as he convinced himself to let her stay. As many times as he held on.

  But rage boiled his blood and clouded his brain. He could not take his revenge on Paul Locke when he was in love with Paul Locke's daughter.

  Blood stained the front of Mary's shapeless dress and tears still rolled down her round face. Real or false? Andre stared at her, at her stunning green eyes and her halo of black hair. She was so beautiful, from her long slender hands to her voluptuous body. He especially loved her smile. When she smiled, he could almost imagine himself being happy again.

  It was her beauty that fooled him. He should have never trusted her, her smile, her laughter. She had as good as said she loved him after knowing him three weeks. How could she? They hardly knew each other! She was his prisoner! And yet, she had spoken of soulmates as though she thought he was hers.

  Mary stepped forward, raising her arms to embrace him. Andre backed away.

  "Did you know he was coming?"

  Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open. "What?"

  His voice was rough, acid. "You knew he was coming! You knew he was coming," he had to repeat it to convince himself.

  The shock and betrayal on her face was almost too much to take, but if he let her in again, he could not do what was necessary.

  "You lured me away. You delayed going to the city because you knew he was coming. You wanted me away so he could come and destroy my farm and my life! Why else would you want to see their graves?"

  "What are you talking about?" Mary flinched back from him, shaking her head. "Andre, I didn't know this was coming. I wanted to see your wife and daughter's graves because I wanted to let you know that I was here for you. We were going to run away together. We were going to go east, away from my family!"

  "You were in on it the whole time!" Andre roared, his hands clenching. "He's your father!"

  "We don't know it was him. It could have been anybody. Anybody in the community would want to chase a Bear away. We all fear Bears!"

  Andre froze, his blood running cold. "We?" he choked out. "We?"

  "I didn't mean it like that," Mary reached for him again. He pulled away and she pursued him, following as he backed away towards the untouched barn.

  "What did you mean then?"

  "I only meant that us Wolves were raised to fear Bears. We heard stories. Bears attacking and killing for no reason. But I know it's not true, I know you. I am not afraid of you. I love you."

  Acid scorched his throat. How dare she say that? His ears rang, his vision darkening. Blood roared in his ears and his Bear growled deep in his core. The growl rose through his throat and Mary backed away, her breathing becoming more rapid. A laugh bubbled and burst through his mouth, making her flinch again.

  "You really played me, didn't you? But you say you don't fear me? Then why are you afraid right now?"

  ***

  Mary's heart thumped against her chest as Andre advanced. His black eyes were hard and angry, lips pulled back in a snarl. His long hair had come loose from the bun he normally wore it in, fanning out in a ragged way. Dirt clung to his close-cut beard and under his fingernails. Normally he was striking and handsome, a powerful figure meant for admiration. Now he looked like a figure to be feared, some wrathful god come to strike down all those who stood in his way.

  Afraid? Yes, she was afraid–but not of him. Not that he would hurt her, at least not physically. But he wasn't in control of the words coming from his mouth.

  "I'm afraid that you aren't thinking clearly," she rasped out. "I'm afraid that you are going to say something that you can't unsay."

  He stopped advancing, chest heaving, staring at her.

  Mary swallowed hard. Though her hand trembled, she reached for him again. "I know you won't hurt me. I know you love me."

  Her Wolf whimpered, agonized, wanting to comfort him. But she hung back, not wanting to scare him, or place him on the defensive, or push him too far. Her fingertips brushed his arm. He was freezing. His natural heat seeped from his skin. How long had they been out here without coats? She suddenly realized how cold she was as well, and shivered.

  The movement jolted Andre from his reverie. He stepped back, eyes narrowing again.

  "I know you're angry," Mary said, desperately trying to get him back.

  Where were the tender eyes and reluctant smile that she had gotten to know? She hardly recognized the angry Bear standing before her. How could he change so drastically? Just a few hours ago they were happily looking forward to starting their life together, and now he wouldn't even let her touch him.

  She took a deep breath. "If my father did this—"

  "He did."

  Mary nodded slowly. Who else would it be, besides somebody in the community? Her brother, who had come here the day before, demanding that she return to the community? Peter wouldn't have done this. But he could have easily told their father where to find Andre.

  "Yes. Yes, he must have. Then he must have been trying to… to rescue me or something. He… this is horrible, and there is no justification for it, no matter what he was trying to do. But we can still leave. We can run away, go east, build a new life for ourselves. You and me—"

  "You and me," Andre muttered. He ran a hand over his tanned face, black eyes softening.

  He reached for her face and she leaned into his touch. Both of her hands pressed over his and she closed her eyes, breathing in his woodsy scent.

  "You and me, Andre. I love you."

  ***

  It was so tempting. His heart ached to take her into his arms, take her to his truck and just run away with her. But what if it was a trap? What if she was lying? She's not. But she had to be. All Wolves were liars, murderers. He should never have let himself think otherwise.

  "I love you," she repeated.
r />   I love you, too. He closed his eyes. When Paul Locke killed his wife and daughter, he never thought he could love again. And yet, he did. Mary. He loved her and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. But did she really love him?

  It was a trap. It was always a trap. How could a woman like her love him?

  He opened his eyes again and his gaze fell on the slaughtered sheep. Instantly their faces appeared in his mind. Isadore's dark eyes. Eve's tiny nose. The night Eve was born. And their bodies lying on the mountain, cut open the same way these sheep were.

  Mary moved closer. Paul Locke's daughter.

  Andre jumped away from her. Her eyes opened, looking startled and confused. The Bear glared at her. She had tricked him, trapped him. This was all her fault.

  "Andre?" Her voice broke.

  "Your father did this. You knew he was going to do this."

  She shook her head, but he wouldn't believe her. Couldn't.

  "Now know this, Werewolf. I am going to kill your father."

  Chapter Two

  He heard her shouting after him as he embraced his Bear. His heart begged him to turn around. A pang of regret hit his stomach. He knew she wasn't a part of this and the accusations he had made tasted bitter on his tongue. But the larger part of him held onto his anger and pushed away love.

  Love would stop him again. Love would close his eyes. He needed anger, hate. It was necessary for his revenge. And without revenge, what was he? She was Paul Locke's daughter. He might as well have spat on Isadore's grave every time he kissed Mary.

  Mary's voice cut out shortly after he entered the forest. His clothing shredded from embracing his Bear, fell off him as it caught on branches. The world seemed too silent without her.