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None of the shifters or their wives said it, but Timber knew. He was their leader, after all.
Once breakfast was finished, the shifters headed out into the dim day, chrome clouds covering the sun like thin drapes. They were set to mark the territory scattered throughout the state. Lyra stayed behind with the wives, taking care of Marigold and the rest of the kin.
He gave her a light kiss before he departed, feeling her slender hands wrapping around his neck. It wasn’t passion for passion's sake … it was desperation.
Her eyes were as big as the moon when he glanced down at her.
“We will talk later. I am fine,” he muttered.
He planted another kiss on her forehead, engulfing himself in her enchanting scent before peeling himself from her form. She said nothing, standing on the threshold of the door, watching him and the other shifters head out in opposing directions.
They had laid out a map on the coffee table during breakfast, with a red felt pen where they would leave their traces. Timber and Fred would go close to the borders, as it was the riskiest, and they were inarguably the strongest of the shifters. They did so, using their clothing and bear claw imprints in trees and dirt so the bear council would know they meant business.
It took most of the day to make sure all of the Montana area was covered. By the time dusk fell, Timber was headed home, his fists clutching the steering wheel with excited anticipation.
He and the shifters had decided upon a location where the battle would take place, which was in the middle of the woods, not far off from his own property. The council wouldn’t take long in getting back to him. Their reputation was on the line.
As he pulled into the driveway, twilight had sunk into darkness. His phone vibrated, and he yanked it out, his heart nearly beating out of his throat.
The council had replied.
They were sending a representative for the fight, a known bear shifter named Edmund. He was on the council at a lower level and was a good foot or two taller than Timber. He was also a few years younger, which meant he was more feral, ambitious, and had something to prove.
The fight would take place at dusk the next day. Council rules, which didn’t mean fighting to the death … though if death were to occur, the opposing side would accept it as fate. He knew how things worked. He replied to them, agreeing to their terms and citing himself as the New Montana Maul’s representative.
He sat in the driveway for some time, summoning the courage to inform Lyra. She would be terrified about the idea of him getting hurt. He once thought that such fears meant that she didn’t believe in him, but it was quite the opposite; she did, fervently, but the concept of his loss overshadowed that faith.
But it was the world she was going to be a part of, and he had told her that he wasn’t going to keep her a secret, nor would he keep secrets from her. It was a way to keep their bond tight and reliable. Communication was the only way their avid love could be maintained.
Timber got out of the car and went inside, not only staying strong for himself but for Lyra and Marigold. Lyra peeked out of the kitchen, the child slung on her hip.
She knew before he had the chance to open his mouth. Perhaps she was starting to obtain the shifter's intuition since he had marked her. Her heart melted into putty as he sauntered down the hallway, then touched her tenderly with his hand on her cheek.
“Tomorrow, at dusk,” he whispered.
Marigold was sleepy. Timber took her from Lyra, and she lay on his shoulder. There was nothing sweeter in the world.
“Okay,” Lyra nodded, her unfixed gaze wandering the carpet below.
THIRTY-EIGHT
LYRA
Lyra knew that he was going into the ring for the fight the second he walked in the door that evening. She had spent most of the day with the wives of the shifters, getting to know each other and relating their human woes. Although she found the experiences to be enlightening, her fear remained an insidious sea monster clinging to the back of her skull.
They had all left only a few hours before, leaving Lyra and Marigold alone with her thoughts. She didn’t want Timber to think she didn’t believe in him. He was massive and strong; she had felt it when they’d made love when he pressed his body into hers and used the force of his might. He could split her in half like he was tearing paper if he wanted to.
But fear was poison, often illogical and fruitless. She had never cared for anyone the way she cared for Timber, so perhaps, all that anxiety came with the territory.
She saw the apology in his eyes when he walked in. Marigold was strapped to her hip and fading fast. His hand was warm and inviting, but the rest of him had made the decision already without her acceptance.
“I’ll put her to bed,” he said, holding his daughter delicately in his tree trunk arms. “You’ve had a long day.”
His consideration made her ache. She strained her jaw and neck, trying to hold back the tears while he trailed past her and into Marigold’s room. She took the time to head to their bedroom, closing the door lightly behind her.
Lyra knew she couldn’t talk him out of it. They didn’t have many other options. They were the ones who had formed the new council, flushing out these other secret relationships that had thrived in shadows for decades. He had to fight for them as much as he had to fight for her and his child.
Lyra knew that keenly, but that didn’t mean she was okay with it. He was a capable, muscular, and sturdy man, so she could only imagine who the council was sending out on their behalf.
