The Blackstone She-Bear: Blackstone Mountain Book 7
The Blackstone She-Bear
Blackstone Mountain Book 7
Alicia Montgomery
To Lauren
Your golden rejoining will bring to life something even more beautiful.
I look forward to Version Eight.
Contents
About the Author
Also by Alicia Montgomery
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Preview: The Blackstone She-Dragon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Alicia Montgomery
Cover design by Melody Simmons
Edited by LaVerne Clark
All rights reserved.
About the Author
Alicia Montgomery has always dreamed of becoming a romance novel writer. She started writing down her stories in now long-forgotten diaries and notebooks, never thinking that her dream would come true. After taking the well-worn path to a stable career, she is now plunging into the world of self-publishing.
Also by Alicia Montgomery
The True Mates Series
Fated Mates
Blood Moon
Romancing the Alpha
Witch’s Mate
Taming the Beast
Tempted by the Wolf
The Lone Wolf Defenders Series
Killian’s Secret
Loving Quinn
All for Connor
The Blackstone Mountain Series
The Blackstone Dragon Heir
The Blackstone Bad Dragon
The Blackstone Bear
The Blackstone Wolf
The Blackstone Lion
The Blackstone She-Wolf
The Blackstone She-Bear
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Prologue
Four years ago
Mason Grimes wrestled with his inner animal, attempting to calm the beast down as he entered through the doors of The Den. For fuck’s sake, it’s only a bar.
Fucked-up animal that it was, his polar bear was calmer right before a dangerous op than in social situations. And, since he was a Navy SEAL, dangerous didn’t even begin to describe all the shit he’d been through in the last nine years.
But then again, this wasn’t an ordinary bar. This was a bar that catered to other shifters, and all the different energies in the enclosed space made his animal agitated.
He swallowed a snarl when another patron—wolf, based on the stench of wet dog—got too close to him. When he spotted Tim from across the room, he breathed a sigh of relief. His uncle was a good man; gruff on the outside, but when things got rough at home, he was the only one who stepped up.
Tim must have felt his stare, because his head whipped toward him. Much like Mason, Tim was a large man, over six foot five and sported a beard, but his hair was completely white. He looked like an older version of Mason, which made sense of course, because Tim was his dad’s older brother.
Light blue eyes—also like his own—stared back at him. Surprise flickered across Tim’s face, just for a moment, but by the time Mason reached the bar, the other man had his usual stoic expression on his face.
“Well, boy, nice of you to drop by after all this time.” Tim crossed his arms across his chest, and the red flannel shirt he wore strained against his biceps.
Mason laughed. “Thought you might need your diaper changed, ya old fart.”
Tim’s snowy brows furrowed together. “You volunteerin’?”
“Hell no! I was going to laugh in your face, then get the hell out when you stunk up the room.”
His uncle’s face remained stone-still for a second before he did something rare. His head went back and let out a loud belly laugh. It startled the people around them, including the young man working the bar whose eyes darted nervously from Tim to Mason and back again.
“Come here, you runt.” Tim grabbed his arm, his meaty hand wrapping around Mason’s elbow.
“I haven’t been a runt since before my growth spurt at seventeen.” Mason returned the gesture and pulled his uncle closer so they could touch their foreheads in the traditional greeting for polar bears. No one dared make a comment, nor did Mason feel weird doing that in front of a whole room of people. After all, he and Tim were the last of their family, and possibly their kind. As far as he knew, there were no other polar bears around, at least not in this part of the world.
“So,” Tim began when he pulled away, “what brings you to Blackstone?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Me?” Tim huffed. “It’s been nearly a decade since you left and joined the SEALs. I know what kind of shit they put you through, so I’m not complainin’. I still get your letters, though. Damn proud of you, boy.”
“I got more news. Good news.”
“Oh yeah?”
Mason nodded. “Got promoted and I’m leading my own unit. It’s a brand new one. Shifter Team Six. An all-shifter team.”
After decades, it seemed the navy had finally seen the potential for the use of shifters in their operations. After all, shifters were stronger and faster than normal humans, not to mention being able to turn into different animals had a distinct advantage. It was a wonder it took them so long to figure out that shifters could be useful in covert ops, but then again, the human world wasn’t exactly welcoming of their kind.
“You gonna be leading your own team now?” For the second time that night, Tim did another rare thing—he actually smiled. “I didn’t think I could be any prouder of you. You know your old man would be shitting his pants with happiness if he were here, right?”
Mason managed to smile back, despite the tightening in his throat. “Yeah.”
Tim clapped him on the shoulder. “We should celebrate. The usual?”
He nodded and Tim wasted no time getting behind the bar. As owner of The Den, no one stopped him, of course. He reached for shelf behind him for three beer glasses, filled each one from the tap, and brought them over to where Mason was standing. He slid one glass over to Mason, kept the second in front of him, and the third next to the empty spot beside him. For your dad, he would always say. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He clinked his glass to Tim’s and they both took a healthy swig before slamming the glasses down on the bar. Mason’s eyes darted to the untouched glass before looking at his uncle. “So, what’s new, Tim?”
“Not much since you left. Same old, same old. And”—Tim’s face went back its usual scowl when a loud crash interrupted him—“speaking of which …”
“Go ahead,” Mason said, taking another sip of beer. “I’ll be here. We can catch up later.”
“Right. You got a place to stay?”
“I’m fine. Just checked into the Blackstone Motel off 79.”
Tim grunted then turned, walking o
ut from behind the bar and toward the source of the commotion.
Mason shook his head. Though nine years had passed since those couple of months he’d spent in Blackstone, Tim hadn’t changed one bit. He glanced up at the mirror behind the bar, inspecting his own reflection. With his thick ruddy beard, broad shoulders, and the hardened expression in his eyes, he was certainly far from the tall, skinny seventeen-year-old who had arrived in Blackstone all those years ago.
He remembered his dad, before he died, telling him about his brother in Blackstone, Colorado. Mason hitchhiked and walked all the way there, then asked around until he found Tim. Despite the fact they had never met, the old man recognized him right away and offered him a place to stay. He’d only stayed in town for a couple weeks until he was old enough to enlist. Even when he was younger, he knew he wanted to be a SEAL, just like his dad. If only his old man was around now.
He took another swig of beer, pushing the memories away as he swallowed the bitterness down, along with the cool liquid. He turned around slowly, trying to settle his bear before facing the entire room of shifters.
Mason prepared for the inner battle, but to his surprise, his animal went silent. In fact, the entire room went still; the people, the bar—everything blurred away in his vision. Except for her.
He couldn’t look away, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. She had just entered the bar and was standing in the doorway, her head turning side to side, as if looking for someone. Even from a distance, he knew she was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Tall, with long, dark blonde hair going down her back. She was wearing a black leather off-the-shoulder top and skintight jeans that showed off her generous curves. He’d had his share of women in the past, but for the life of him, couldn’t recall a single time he’d wanted someone this bad.
Mason put his beer down and dropped a tip on the bar before he began to make his way across the room. It seemed she’d found her companions, as she began to walk toward one of the tables in the far corner. His bear growled, as if urging him to go faster before she got away. Hold your horses. She’s not getting away from me.
As he walked after her, his eyes zeroed in on her ass. Full and shapely, and he could already imagine grabbing it as he—
He stifled a groan, and focused on his task. Can’t let her get away. His hand stretched out to catch her arm, and as their skin touched, a strange warm feeling crept over him.
She turned, her hair whipping back. Blue eyes, the color of the sky after a rainstorm, crashed into his. Pink, plump lips parted and sucked in a breath as he heard a loud roar from within him
Mine!
Now that was strange. His polar bear never talked with actual words. And as far as he knew, no shifter’s animal did. But then again, he grew up in a small, backwater town in Tennessee, and there were no other shifters there. In fact, he’d never met one until Tim.
Mine, his bear insisted, roaring loudly in his ears.
And, much to his surprise, he could feel her animal shout it at him, too.
Mason staggered back. Holy hell. He could smell the fur and something else—sweet, like honeysuckle. A female bear. Grizzly. And not just an ordinary one. There was something different about her. Something fierce and loud and magnificent.
Her eyes remained fixed on him, and she was still as a rock. Up close, she was even more beautiful, and in her high heels, she was only two or three inches shorter than him. Shit. Long legs, curvy ass, full tits. He was a goner.
Finally, she spoke. “Oh. It’s you?”
He frowned. No way they’d met before. He would have remembered. “Do I know you?”
She blinked. “I mean. They always told me …” She cocked her head to the side and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s not you.”
“I’ll be whoever you want me to be, darlin’,” he drawled. “What’s your name?”
“Amelia. Walker.”
“Beautiful name.”
Her face went all pink and her eyes lowered, her full lashes casting shadows over her high cheekbones. Based on what she was wearing, he would have thought she was some rocker, man-eating chick. But, she seemed almost sweet. Maybe a little shy.
“I’m Mason Grimes. You here alone?”
“No.” She nodded her head toward two girls who were standing around a table in the corner. “It’s my friend Kate’s birthday. She just turned twenty-one.”
“Nice,” he said. “I’m not from around here and I don’t know anyone. Maybe I can join you guys for a bit, Amelia?”
“I—” Her eyes dropped to his hand, still wrapped around her arm. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know you and my friends might—”
“I’m Tim’s nephew,” he said. “You know him, right?”
“Oh.” She glanced over at Tim, who was back by the bar. “Then in that case—”
“Let’s go meet your friends.”
Amelia nodded and gently tugged her arm away. His bear didn’t like that, and growled, but he tamped it down before it screwed things up. She frowned, and much to his surprise, her bear protested as well. He could feel it roar, but it backed down as she reined it in with practiced ease. Fuck, a woman in control like that was hot and he wondered what else she was good at.
He followed behind, not caring if he looked like a damn puppy chasing after her. She stopped at one of the tables, where the two women were waiting.
“Finally,” one of them said. “You’re here and you wore the outfit!” The two other women were wearing the same leather top and jeans. “We’ve been—” Green eyes turned to Mason. “Jesus H. Christ on a bicycle! Where the hell did you come from?”
The young woman’s glance was appreciative, her eyes devouring him from top to bottom. He wasn’t stupid; he knew women found him attractive, and this one was cute. But right now, his focus was on one particular woman. When Amelia stepped in front of her friend, he swore he could feel her bear’s hackles rise. The possessive move was hot and only made him want her more.
“He’s Tim’s nephew,” Amelia explained.
“Whoa, cowgirl!” The woman threw her hands up. “I’ll try not to get too close, yeah?”
Amelia glanced around and gave Mason an apologetic look. “Sorry, I don’t know … I mean …” She shook her head. “Mason Grimes, this is my friend, Kate Caldwell. She’s the birthday girl.”
“Happy birthday, Kate,” he greeted with a nod.
Kate looked at Amelia warily before extending her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mason.”
He shook it, surprised at her strength despite her slight frame. Shifter, of course; wolf or maybe coyote, he guessed, from the scent of fur.
“And this is Sybil.” Amelia nodded to the other woman who had walked over to him.
“Mason Grimes,” he said as he waited for Sybil to offer her hand.
“Sybil Lennox.” She was petite and curvy, with sparkling gray eyes. A pretty little thing, really. But when he shook her hand, his bear reeled back in a defensive position at what he felt was a large, tightly-coiled creature inside her. He couldn’t smell fur or feathers, and he’d never encountered anything like it. Though he wanted to ask her what she was, shifter etiquette made him bite his tongue.
“Are you visiting Tim?” Sybil asked.
“Yeah, just here on leave,” Mason answered. “They’re shipping me off again in two weeks.”
“Army?” Kate interjected.
Mason shook his head. “Navy. SEALs.”
“Ooohhh!” Kate clapped her hands together. “Sounds dangerous!”
He shrugged. “I suppose. But I’m still here.” He really hoped they wouldn’t ask about his missions. Not only were they classified, but the things he’d seen … it was a good thing his bear was already messed up before he’d even enlisted.
“Mason?” Amelia had placed a hand on his arm and she looked up at him with concern in her eyes, her soft palm warm on his bare skin. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Her touch was oddly soothing. “So,” h
e said, turning to Kate. “You just turned twenty-one?”
Kate’s face lit up like a firework. “Oh yeah. I’m legal, baby. Legal to drink, anyway.”
Sybil snorted. “You’ve been sneaking gin from your dad’s liquor cabinet since you were seventeen.”
“Yeah, well it just means I can get a drink anytime I want now.” Kate raised a fist in victory.
“Speaking of which,” Mason began. “Since it is your birthday and I invited myself over, maybe I should buy you a drink?” He glanced at Amelia. “I mean, all of you?”
“Free drinks? Woohoo! You bet!” Kate slapped him on the shoulder. “A shot of tequila!”
“And you ladies?”
“Just a glass of red,” Sybil said.
“A beer,” Amelia added. “Please.”
He nodded. “Coming right up.” He turned toward the bar, feeling eyes on his back. He was used to the stares, of course, but he hoped one particular person was staring at him, and maybe even checking out his ass.
Mason came back a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He frowned when the three women jumped away from each other, as if they’d been caught doing something wrong. Amelia’s eyes dropped down to her feet while Kate and Sybil continued to stare at him, their eyes bulging.
“What, did I grow a second head or something?” he joked as he put the drinks down.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “You’re her—”
Sybil elbowed her friend in the side. “Thanks for the drinks, Mason,” she said in a sweet voice as she reached for her wine. She leaned closer. “So, why don’t you tell us all about you?”