Cage and Wyatt were in charge of the business side, the cutting, clearing and milling of the timber. Conner was all about the replanting. His crew would head through a clear-cut left by his brothers, nothing but stumps and culled logs that didn’t make the grade, and give it a second chance.
Once an area was cleared, he and his team replanted. Native species and two trees for every one they harvested. Conner was lucky that he got to see those barren landscapes come to life again and grow back into healthy forests.
Most people only saw these areas in the early stages of re-growth. With bear shifters living longer than humans, Conner got a front row seat to see nature reclaim what they took. At forty-five, Conner knew he looked like he was in his late twenties, although anyone looking at his eyes would see just how many years he had actually seen.
It was a small consolation, and one of the few highlights in his life. Lately, his melancholy had reached epic proportions.
“Fuck, me,” he growled into his glass, taking another swig. The whiskey burned down his throat. He motioned to the waitress as she was making her rounds.
“Need another, sugar,” she asked, comically rubbing her fire engine red lips together.
“Yup, and probably another after that,” he said with a surly tone, tossing her a twenty on her tray.
“Whatever you say,” she said turning away.
“Whatever I say, that’s right. I say, not anyone else. Not some bossy bear, not some pushy brothers,” he mumbled into his glass. Luckily, the noise in the bar was too loud for anyone to hear his low bitch session.
He knew he was bitching, he had accepted that about himself. He was a whiny bitch because he couldn’t cope with his bear and had zero life plans ahead of him.
Both of his brothers had recently found their mates. The One for them for eternity, fated to be their true loves. And if that wasn’t enough, they were both human! Conner had taken some solace in the idea that the odds of them ever having to deal with mates were slim to none since shifters weren’t that common. Definitely not common in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest. On the Olympic peninsula where they lived, there were no other shifters that Conner knew about.
They knew a few families close by. As in California and Canada, but not actually close. He was sure they were out there, but it wasn’t something one advertised. Secrecy was ingrained in their DNA. Keeping it secret kept them safe.
Now his family had two new additions in the form of humans for his brothers. They knew the secret now, but it was kind of hard to hide that from someone you were sleeping with and potentially having kids with.
Try explaining to your spouse why your kid turns into a bear cub not long after birth and then, poof back into a baby for no apparent reason. Might cause some problems in the communications department.
Conner could hear his bear growling, but it was far off. His bear hated when he drank. Nothing he’d like better than for Conner to be home, sober with a mate of his own.
Fat chance, he thought.
Conner never found humans that attractive. Well, they were attractive, at least the ones he’d bothered to sleep with. But he never really liked them, it wasn’t fair that they only had one voice in their heads. Minus anyone dealing with a mental issue of course. He was kind, courteous; always made sure they had a good time. But deep down his dislike of them caused him to hate himself even more. Part of him wondered if he was just jealous of their sense of self. One person in your head was probably pretty nice.
“Fuck!” He slammed his glass down. He had to maintain some kind of calm. He’d never been thrown out of this joint, and he didn’t want tonight to be the first. His bear was quieter, but Conner wanted him silent.
Another drink slid across the table to him by the waitress who didn’t wait for a response. She turned and made her way to a group of rowdy drunks. Even alone, hunched over a table, Conner radiated anger and danger. The vibe was enough to keep most of the other patrons on the other side of the bar.
Thinking about his soon to be sisters-in-law, Conner admitted he liked them both. They were both sweet, funny, and made his brothers happy. He wanted to see them settled, start families and live the dream. Conner never had that dream for himself, so he was jealous. He actually hoped this would keep his mother happy and distracted enough to give him another decade or two before hassling him about a mate and kids.
Realizing his bear was finally quiet, Conner slugged back the rest of his drink and stumbled to the door and out into the crisp summer air. Summer in Washington still had cool nights, but he didn’t feel it. Seeing room six across the lot, he made it to the door and got the key in the lock and slammed the door shut as he entered and fell sideways across the bed.