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Timber packed the car and secured Marigold into her car seat before setting off to Missoula. He was trying with all of his heart and soul not to let his rage get the best of him. He needed to narrow his focus to finding his beloved before he unleashed his fury upon the perpetrators.
It had to be the bear council giving him a strict warning. He hated that he had brought her into his tumultuous, stubborn world.
Timber arrived at Karen’s with lightning speed. She was waiting at the door for him, a significantly small and bony woman with balled-up tissues in her palms. Lyra clearly didn’t get her shapely form from her mother. He brandished himself for having such a thought during an emergency.
He introduced himself and Marigold to Karen, who welcomed him inside politely. She was a stern, strong woman, struck by the agony of a potential loss. But Timber wasn’t going to let that happen. Not even if it meant his own life.
“I have brought all of what Marigold will require. Even the playpen is in the car,” Timber said, handing the child to Karen. “If you could take care of her while I search for Lyra, it would mean the world to me.”
The long-faced woman took the child like a grandmother, settling her on her hip and swaying instinctively. She looked Timber up and down, cocking an eyebrow in his direction.
“So you really chose the secretary over my daughter, didn’t you?”
Timber gave her an uncharacteristic smile. He had a vague idea what she was talking about, something Lyra had asked him many moons ago in a whirlwind frenzy of seduction. But there was no time for that.
“I’m going to head out now. You have my number. Please let me know if you need anything for Marigold.”
Karen nodded as Timber went to the car to retrieve the playpen. He brought it inside and set it up in the living room. Karen placed Marigold inside of it, then Timber gave the little girl a sweet kiss. She cooed at him, drooling and ignorant of her circumstances.
“I’ll be back soon, honey,” he whispered.
Karen followed him to the front door, once again giving him an up-and-down look. She crossed her arms after opening the door for him, that serious look remaining.
“Find my daughter. Then we can discuss the secretary.”
Timber was going to crack a joke, but when he turned to her, her eyes had turned to glossy marble. She was stifling tears, her face beginning to crumble in fear.
Timber touched her wrist affectionately.
“I am going to find her. Lyra is going to be fine. I promise.”
She nodded at him firmly. He wondered if she really believed him or was just suspicious of the strange, towering man her daughter had worked for.
It was only noon, the sun sitting high like a beach ball in a crisp blue sky. He climbed into his truck and planned out his route using the digital GPS. He had to find somewhere to park the truck before he could shift. Karen likely had no clue he was a bear shifter, and Lyra had used the secretary thing as a cover.
He searched for the area where her car had been left, then headed in that direction. He would sniff out the woods nearby, then track her scent for as long as he could physically move.
Timber gripped the steering wheel tightly, thinking only of action and positive results. That was how they hunted in his bear pack, focusing on only what you could do and not on what you could not. It would be helpful during other missions, but with Lyra, it was personal. He had to keep it together while he searched for her. Other than Marigold, she was the only person in the world who had his heart.
The sun followed him along the highway, beaming into the truck and lighting the way toward his darling beloved. The color of his daughter’s namesake, marigold, cast a pathway ahead of him.
TWENTY-SIX
LYRA
Lyra struggled with the bear as it clawed at her jacket, knowing that it was utterly fruitless. A part of her was afraid, of course, since the only bear she had interacted directly with was Timber, and she was close with him. It jolted her into the woods, but its movements were intentional. It was obviously a shifter, and it was likely being ordered around by the council.
She continued to struggle, though she calmed a bit, recognizing she wasn’t going to get mauled. It dragged her to the other side of the woods and to a van where a man, thick and tall as Timber, stood next to an open door.
The shifter still had her jacket hood in its gob, and she tried to reach up and scratch at its eyes. It was pointless, though. Even if she managed to get a grip on its snout or plunge her fingers into its eye sockets, there were two more waiting for her. And although she was tenacious, she had nothing on three bear shifters.
“STOP!” she screamed.
The shifter who had been dragging her dropped her against the cold ground. She thudded on her back, her neck getting a slight whiplash from the sudden movement.
There was one man in the driver’s seat while the second man stood by the van door. He had a dark beard and hair slicked back, his face utterly exposed. He brought a finger to his mouth as he approached her.
“Don’t scream,” he hissed. “We’ll gag you if you do.”
