Sexy but dangerous.
He wasn’t a danger to her, though. Every instinct she possessed screamed that he’d never hurt her. Even yesterday when he’d Turned in front of her, he was a gentle giant. He looked scary enough with his big barrel chest and powerful arms that shook the earth with each thundering step. But his eyes had been soft and sad when she’d been crying with the relief of finally understanding what he’d been hiding from her. No, he wouldn’t hurt her, but rather he lived in constant danger.
She’d wondered why Denison hadn’t gone big with his singing. Why he hadn’t left this tiny town and made a name for himself. Anyone with ears could tell he was special with that clear baritone, natural affinity for musical instruments, and a memory for lyrics that stretched for miles. Now, she got it. Big dreams like that would be a risk for a man like Denison. It would expose him to more people and put his animal in situations he wouldn’t be able to control. He wouldn’t be able to hide his shifting eye-color or the snarl in his throat, and it would put all shifters at risk. So here he was, year after year, frozen in time as he played his weekly gig at Sammy’s and plucked out tunes around the bonfire for his crew.
She was so proud of what he was, of the man and the bear he’d grown up to be while she’d been away, but that didn’t mean he led an easy life.
What he and Brighton had gone through when they were teenagers was awful. Even if he didn’t remember much of his time being tested on, she’d witnessed firsthand the devastation in his face as he told the story. No wonder Brighton didn’t want to talk, not even at a whisper. His missing voice had to be a constant reminder of what had been done to him. If she chose to stay here with the Ashe Crew, she would have to learn to be overly careful to protect the people she loved.
She’d done as Brooke asked and knocked on her door after she and Denison had come down from the mountains. Brooke had showed her a beautiful painting she’d done of Danielle and a grizzly, Denison, sitting beside each other on the edge of the landing, looking out over the stars, sitting close to each other but not touching. Afterward, Brooke had sat her down and told her of how she had been Turned by Tagan at the cruel order of the last alpha. She had told Danielle about how he’d killed one of his own crew to save her and explained how hard it had been when she’d first been Turned. She had told her about how much it had changed her from the person she used to be. Danielle had already known what she would gain by joining the Ashe Crew—friends, family, and an unbreakable bond and sense of belonging—but Brooke had also let her know exactly what she would be giving up if she chose to allow Denison to claim her and put a bear inside of her.
She had a big decision to make, but she couldn’t make it now. Not when her head was supposed to be wrapped up in this meeting.
There was an environmentalist outpost half an hour’s drive from the Asheland Mobile Park. She hit the brakes and pulled to a stop in front of a dilapidated log cabin with overgrown landscaping. She tried to match it to her memories of the outpost from her internship here years ago, but couldn’t. She frowned and checked the directions Reynolds had texted her again. 101 Pine Pass. This was definitely the place.
A black SUV was parked alongside the house, and she stifled the nervous flutters in her stomach as she exited her jeep and gathered her notebooks. This would be her second meeting with Darren, but her first with Reynolds, and he was the one who held the power to extend her contract so she could stay here with Denison.
With a deep breath, she stepped around an empty, moss-colored birdbath and knocked on the front door.
“Come in,” a man called from inside.
She opened the door and squinted into the dark room. The lights hadn’t been turned on, and it took her eyes a couple of seconds to adjust after coming in from the sunny weather outside.
The cabin seemed to be one room and definitely not the outpost she remembered. In the middle of the floor was an old desk, polished to shining, and a high-backed office chair turned away from her.
When she closed the door behind her, the chair turned, and the man from the lumberjack competition, the one with the pitch black hair gone silver at the sides and cold hazel eyes, stared back at her with the empty smile he’d given her the first time they’d met.
“Mr. Reynolds?” Her voice trembled as frost blasted up the back of her neck.
“The one and only. Have a seat, Ms. Clayton. I do believe you have some information I need.”
“Right.” The beetle infestation.
She folded herself carefully into the creaking leather chair in front of the desk and settled her stack of notebooks into her lap. Reynolds was wearing a black, three-piece suit, and more power to the man for dressing well, but this wasn’t a corporate business meeting.