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The hairs on his neck stood, and he finally turned to regard her. She saw that rabid desire in him, as well as conviction. Lyra squeezed her thighs together with vibrating attraction.
“We will talk again at our place. We send forth a notice to the council. They’ll send out their representative.”
Lyra’s mouth ran dry. The mere thought of her beloved getting hurt caused her legs to feel like water. Timber must have felt it because he pulled her in swiftly by the grip of her ass.
She gasped, leaving her lips parted as he raised his brows at her with a stern look.
“Don’t start getting nervous on me. Things are going to be okay. I feel it."
Lyra trusted him. In fact, it was more than she had trusted anyone in her entire life. Perhaps it was her human nature to worry. But being held so closely, so tightly in Timber’s thick arms, she knew he had to be right.
“I won’t, sir," she mused in her husky tone.
His eyes sparkled, then he growled into her neck with a light nibble. God, he drove her mad. They would certainly have to release some tension later.
The two lovers returned to their residence, meeting with the rest of the shifters and their wives. Some of the females weren't present, as they had to tend to the rest of the family. Nevertheless, Timber made his proclamation, stating that he would send out a notice to the council of the impending battle.
Everyone was on board, just as Timber had said. They knew how things worked better than Lyra did, as did their wives. The women who were present said they would fight with what they had, if it came down to it, for the freedom of their husbands and families.
Lyra admired them greatly. At one time, they had been where she was, finding themselves in a strange, surreal world of shapeshifting men with laws and rules they didn’t understand. But they had stuck by the man they loved and had been rewarded generously with an eternal commitment and riveting passion.
She could see it in their eyes. The love was real, just as real as it was coursing through her veins and into her heart.
The shifters decided to form their own council for the time being while the fight was being sorted. They quite easily voted Timber as the leader of the council, calling it the New Montana Bear Maul.
Timber was clearly chuffed, proud to be leading such a change in the bear shifter community. They all agreed to meet up again the next day to mark their territory and wait for the notice to the original council to be received.
After they departed, Lyra saw to Marigold, who was especially fussy. They spent the night with her, reading in front of the fireplace, talking, and joking about lighter and happier things. Through it all, Lyra felt a sensation of doom in her heart, the same one which had trickled up her spine earlier in front of the council headquarters.
She tried to bat it away as human fragility. She inherently trusted Timber without a doubt, but her adoration for him had morphed into fear. They didn’t speak of it that night, though, as Marigold took some time to get to bed. It only left them time to lay next to each other.
“Do you think she can feel it?"
Lyra whispered in the dark, the two of them exhausted from the day's events. She had wanted to make love, as she always did with Timber, but she could sense the wheels of the revolution turning in his head.
She rubbed his arm up and down as he spoke. “She’s a shifter, so likely, yes.”
They kissed in a romantic and drawn-out embrace. She settled on his shoulder as they slept.
THIRTY-SEVEN
TIMBER
Timber sensed Lyra’s anxiety creeping into her body like an elusive creature of the night. It came with being so closely bonded with a mate he could read her like a book with changing tides and emotions that he could tap into at any moment.
Even when he didn’t want to, he felt her mind and her body, the subtlest altering of her heartbeat as it happened in real-time. He felt it when he was holding her outside the headquarters and when they were falling asleep later that night. He knew she wanted to make love, as did he, but he was trying to consider the rebellion, the response from the council, and the potential weighty burden of becoming the new leader.
He tried to place her emotions on the shelf for the time being as he and the other shifters met for breakfast in their living room, which had become its own self-made council room. He once again had his chef make an exorbitant amount of food for them all as they discussed the proceeding plans.
“I have sent a message out to the council, and their reply is pending,” he announced from his batwing chair. “For today, I think we should mark the territory where the battle will take place. The usual rules will apply; the loser can either leave or conform to the new laws.”
The shifters hollered and clapped in agreement. Lyra sat on the chair arm as she had done several times before.
“Will it be a group battle?” Isabel asked, holding a mug of coffee to her lips.
“That is yet to be determined,” Timber replied. “Sometimes it is, but other times they offer one of their strongest to fight for them. In that case, we will vote for our own representative.”
Timber felt Lyra’s pulse gallop through her veins. They both knew that if the latter were to happen, he would be the one to stand up for the new council.
