Brother Bear Mated: Ouachita Mountain Shifters, #6

PROLOGUE

Once upon a time, there was a soul full of light. Kind and generous, living life as it came but not daring to step outside her circle of radiance.

Good. Safe. Protected.

Alas, one day the soul touched a shadow, a darkness so dim she couldn’t find her way back to the light. She mourned the loss of light, but found something brighter lived on the other side of her circle.

That thing was named Love.

Love and the soul matched, for the light the soul had left behind was made of love, formed in the mystics. The soul lived without light and was content.

Until the shadows came once again, haunting, stealing the bright thing away from the soul. And so, the soul fought the darkness that had taken her light, and now wanted her Love.

She fought it.

Outsmarted it…

And now we are.

This is the story of our creation.

CHAPTER

ONE

The darkness was sweet and rich, like sugary wine. Or like Joseph Gordon Levitt was. She knew who he was now, because the app on her phone gave her all the gossip of the rich and famous right at the tip of her finger. Somehow that tiny box called iPhone could zoom the information of a million tomes right to her with only a few taps to its smooth, shiny face.

Technology was a sort of magic in and of itself.

Nastia the Wisest, Sorcera of light magic and sister to The Lightest and The Bravest, was no lover of dark power. But the deep, leathery scent washing over her and the warm, secure hold the darkness had on her was undeniably comforting. She knew she was betraying her beliefs, but… the darkness seemed less inky and more… burgundy. A sweet port, which she’d never tasted, yet could imagine by the descriptions she’d read.

Just like she had never before tasted the power she embraced to help the Ouachita cats be free. Not until this night.

Now she was lost in it, her vision black. As if she was sleeping, but couldn’t wake.

Lost until someone saved her.

Her sisters. They wouldn’t fail her. They would search high and low, find her Anchor so the darkness couldn’t pull her under its pretty spell any further. And if they could not, they would end her so she couldn’t hurt them or anyone else. They had made the pact long ago when their tiny coven became official, when they were barely in the double digits.

No, her sisters wouldn’t fail her. She trusted them fully.

The air grew cold and damp, but the darkness curled around her to keep her warm, and unable to help herself, she pressed closer in. Or maybe she only thought she did. There was no sense to be made of anything. Just blackness, and the cold and warmth warring, and the scents she didn’t recognize yet didn’t hate. And the feeling of fresh power swirling within her.

And the song. The seductive song that had no melody, yet beckoned her closer. A whisper almost, or maybe just a thought. So sweet. So satisfying. She didn’t want to fight it, so she wouldn’t. Not now.

Not now when nothing demanded she count her blasted stones, when nothing required her mind to learn.

Right now, she would trust her sisters to find the answers, and let herself go.

For just a little while.

And then there was nothing.

One, two, three, four, five…

Nastia looked around but she knew her eyes weren’t really open.

Six, seven, eight, nine…

Why was she counting, and was she doing it out loud? And why did she feel like she couldn’t wake?

Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…

Her lips weren’t moving, so that answered one question. And when misshapen stones began to form out of the darkness, she knew the rocks were from her imagination. Or her memory maybe.

The rocks from her childhood that she’d counted to help herself focus when she needed to use magic. She had collected five hundred and eight of them by the time she perfected her magic. Little had she known she’d be counting rocks for the rest of her days.

But lately it had gotten worse. She started seeing them behind her eyelids when she and the other Sorcera had arrived at Lake Haven, the vacation lodge ran by a clan of werecats.

Counting the rocks was her curse. Her personal vice that drove her toward her anchor. For she and her sisters, this was the year of their change, when their power would transfer from good to wicked. By September, their coven would either remain Sorcera of light or embrace the dark magic of the Magei. As the autumnal equinox approached, they each worsened as the light magic they absorbed from the stars and moon faded to make room for the darkness that would swallow it up.

Darkness and light cannot exist in a single vessel. Always one will outlive the other.

While Nastia’s counting had worsened since their arrival, Adira’s penchant for rhyming had all but vanished. She’d rhymed so little over the past few days, Nastia was beginning to feel she was a stranger. And Mirena’s compulsion to place dares with everyone around had even eased a bit.

Something about the lodge was affecting the three. The place felt special, like it contained a magic of its own. And in a way it did. The shifters’ power to change form was a magic of biology. Supernatural, and something humans of this time could never explain. It was why they remained a secret to the common world. But beyond the ability to share their bodies with animals, the shifters had another magic. One stronger than anything Nastia had felt before. Stronger even than the darkness that traveled through her veins in the thinnest stream, existing with the light… for now.

Family. The shifters had the magic of family. Of love and devotion and camaraderie.

The Sorcera didn’t have that. Sure, they called themselves sisters, and they were, within the coven. But they weren’t by blood and they weren’t by deed. They were sisters because they were taught to be. By Father Isaac and his tutors.

Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five…

She struggled to open her eyes and was met with a blurry orange glow. It was dim. Not the sun or any electronic light. But her lids were heavy and before she could make out what it was, they shuttered her vision.

Keep counting. Thirty, thirty one, thirty two…

She breathed deep with every number, preparing herself to try opening again, and on forty, she eased her lids upward.

The orange glow was less blurry, and bounced a bit, like… like… a flame flickering.

Success! she cheered inwardly. She was looking at a flame, she was sure. Most likely the lit wick of a candle.

Blinking to clear her eyes, she focused on the flame. A little energy spell would help, if she could draw enough power from the candlelight. Fire held the least amount of light magic. It was the dimmest of all lights, and it was merely a small bit of flame at that.

Nastia tried lifting her hand to focus her efforts on the flame, but her arm felt like a stack of books rested on it. Heavy ones, like her tomes from back home. Instead, she curled her fingers in the direction of the candle and began to recite the spell.

"Exci… tare. Her voice was ragged, and sounded like claws against slate. Excitare fortitudo…"

A stirring at her back had her stiffening and her words dried up midway past her throat. Something about the movement so close gave her the wakeup call she needed. No one invaded her space like this. Not Adira and not Mirena. They touched hands and perhaps they’d hugged a time or two, but never did one lie near her.

Suddenly details of her surroundings became clear. She was lying on a makeshift bed on a dirt-packed floor. The closest wall she could see was rough stone. The ceiling as well. Curved into an arch high above her head that she couldn’t see the peak of. Water trickled nearby, a steady drip drop that might lull her back to sleep if this was a place she’d come to willingly.

But it wasn’t. It was a cave. She was lying in a cave with a stranger and she had no idea how she’d gotten here.

Again she tried to move, but the weight at her back held her steady.

Shhh, rest, came a husky voice at her ear. It was deep and rich like the darkness from her dream.

Or maybe this was the dream. Perhaps a guardian spell set around her mind by her sisters to keep her sane while the darkness wreaked havoc on her life and those she loved.

You are safe, little witch. It’s just me, your… He hesitated, his breath rushing across her cheek as he sighed. It’s Thames. I’m going to keep you safe. Please. Don’t fear me.

Thames. One of the brother bears who helped guard the lodge. He had caught her attention immediately with his patient, quiet manner. Even when she and her sisters had cast a spell to push the shifters’ animals back inside and forced them to be human, Thames hadn’t cursed and spit and stomped around like some of the others did. Not that Nastia blamed them for it. She couldn’t imagine having her power ripped from her like that. But it had been necessary at the time, and harmless other than a few hours of discomfort.

Nastia relaxed as much as she could in a strange dark cave, confined by the mammoth arms of the bear shifter. She’d never been this close to a male before. Not one that was similar in age. Not one that stood out from all other males like a bright yellow dandelion in a field of green.

Why… why are we lying together?

I hope you don’t mind, but I needed to keep you warm. The nights are still cold around here and my cave is new. I haven’t had time to put in heating yet.

She didn’t mind exactly. And she was quite warm with him so near.

How do you feel? he asked. Do you need a drink? How about some food? It’s not light out yet, but Bailey brought us some breakfast. I didn’t eat because I wanted to make sure there was enough for you first.

Nastia squeezed her eyes shut once again, wondering if this would all disappear when she reopened them. Like the rocks did when she focused on reality long enough. The stones from her mind faded with a little effort on her part.

She blinked but she was still in the cave, still lying next to the bear shifter that was more than twice her size.

A thread of relief worked its way past her ribs, and she frowned at the feeling. She should try to wake, try harder to see past this spell, but she didn’t truly want to. For months her existence had been about worrying and searching and never finding. About doom and despair even as she kept a smile on her face. She had felt her light fading, felt the loss of power she’d come to rely on so heavily. And now… now there was none of that. Common sense told her all those troubles still existed, but right here, like this, she couldn’t feel them.

It was a nice reprieve.

Nastia looked around the dark cave, taking in all the details. The cavernous walls stretched high above her, disappearing into the darkness, leaving her questioning where they came to a peak. How high was the ceiling?

The candle was bigger than she’d realized and sat in a corner away from everything else, casting enough light for her to see. Thames probably didn’t need the light, she realized. Had he left it burning for her? So she wouldn’t be frightened waking in the dark?

The floor was hard packed dirt underneath the pad where she’d slept. Stacks of lumber were piled neatly at the farthest side of the room, along with white pipes and rolls of copper tubing. But she still wasn’t sure which direction the sound of water came from.

I’ll start on the floor in the morning, Thames said quietly, almost as if he was ashamed. "Won’t have you sleeping on the