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Chapter Seven
“Look at that little shit go,” Vince sneered. He then cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “And don’t you ever come back!”
Ivo chuckled, knowing it was a reference to the hyenas expelling Simba from the Pridelands or whatever—only in this instance, it was a ram and a bear shifter watching a coyote shifter slink away into the forest, defeated.
“And so the predator becomes the prey,” Vince said with a hearty laugh, clapping Ivo’s bare shoulder. “Serves him right.”
Over the last two weeks, the pair had grown closer and closer. Ivo had never expected to find anything in common with the ram shifter—or any other kind of shifter, frankly—but he’d been pleasantly surprised just how well he got along with Vince.
While the ram was somewhat shorter and stockier than Ivo, his face a near perfect square and his eyebrows nearing unibrow territory, he held his own against Ivo’s inner black bear just fine. And the inner black bear did not like him as much as the human did, but he put up with Vince’s ram form because Ivo was the one calling the shots these days.
His inner bear remained on guard at all times in the ram shifter’s presence. Ivo, on the other hand, rolled with the punches. His anger had a tendency to make him destructive—and Vince was the perfect partner in crime when he felt like being a little destructive.
They tore around the mountainside, knocking bird nests out of trees and sending boulders rolling down hills, laughing when the other forest creatures skittered out of the way. That morning they’d run into a lone coyote—male—who had wandered from his territory into bear country.
While Ivo didn’t mind having Vince in his territory, he wasn’t about to stand for some sniveling coyote sniffing around. Wily asshole. So they sent him running, chasing him for miles until he crossed the borders.
It’d been a real hoot, but Ivo suspected Vince enjoyed tormenting the shifter on a much darker level than he did. Ivo just wanted the guy gone from bear territory. And, well, he didn’t mind feeling the surge of power as he pursued in his black bear form, paws pounding the earth and lips pulled back in a snarl.
So far, that was the only time his inner bear had let itself have fun around Vince’s ram. Now that Ivo had shifted back, however, his inner bear expressed his discontent by blessing him with some pretty potent heartburn. Great.
“You wanna maybe follow him in?” Vince asked, rubbing his hands together. A wicked look glimmered in those bright blue eyes, one that made Ivo’s inner bear grumble. “Maybe we could see where he lives… You know, send a message about going into someone else’s territory when you’re not invited.”
Ivo hesitated, knowing that tracking a coyote with Vince would be a welcome distraction, but then shook his head. “No. I think the message hit home.”
Besides, the coyote could have cubs. Ivo didn’t mind chasing the guy off his land, but he wasn’t about to go to his house and frighten a bunch of little ones. He wasn’t a total monster—and he liked to think Vince wasn’t either. Sometimes, however, he wasn’t so sure.
“Fair enough.” Vince dragged a hand through his scraggly black hair, grinning. “Maybe next time, huh?”
“Yeah, sure.” Ivo nudged his arm and turned, determined to make sure the ram followed him back to where they’d left their clothes. When Vince suggested they go on another destructive rampage along the trails—trails Miguel’s parents had recently cleaned for all the tourists to stroll through—he turned him down.
“Aw, come on, man, don’t tell me you’re turning in already,” Vince teased. “It’s not even five yet.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna call it,” Ivo said as he pulled his jeans on and buttoned them up. “I’ll shoot you a text for next time.”
After a little more riffing between them, Ivo was eventually on his way, headed back to Angel Fire on foot while Vince went for the ram’s mountain at the end of the range.
It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his time with Vince, but Ivo could only take so much of it in a day. At this point, he’d reached his limit.
Besides, as he strolled for home, something in the pit of his stomach made him feel sick—and it wasn’t the heartburn. No, something had made him uneasy, though he chalked it up to the brief flash of Alani’s gorgeous eyes in his mind.
He’d been trying so hard not to think of her lately, using every distraction in his arsenal so he wouldn’t wallow. Vince had proved to be a great distraction. Booze worked pretty well too—and it made him forget she was just a floor below him, working away in her studio.
Long, lonely walks through the mountains helped, but he always risked running into another member of his clan when he did that. Then he’d have to explain where he’d been all these weeks; he’d skipped just about every weekend meeting lately.
Espie’s ahem-themed text messages, the ones that reminded him he was also a part of this clan and also responsible for helping find a solution for the miners, only managed to annoy him. No one wanted him there. They just wanted one extra brain to contribute toward finding a more permanent solution to the mining company encroaching on their range.
It wasn’t like Ivo wanted the sacred cave destroyed, but he hadn’t been in the mood to be all that helpful since he’d been deposed as Alpha—because still, even now, weeks later, no one had once asked him how he was doing.
So, no, he didn’t want to help the clan out.
Maybe if he did, however, he might find another way to stop thinking about Alani. He’d kept his distance since the incident at her apartment, knowing his big mouth and his impulse control had probably scarred her for life. But damn it, it was so difficult. Alani was fated to be his mate. The woman he was supposed to love and worship and cherish—his partner in life. He’d never have to walk alone again if she was by his side, but he’d fucked it up within thirty seconds of meeting her.
Hopeless. He was just hopeless.
As his mind sunk deeper and deeper into a spiraling cycle of rage and depression, a passing thought caught his attention. It made him pause—literally, in the middle of the sidewalk—as he gave it more attention.
Ivo had fucked up with Alani—twice, actually—but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to make it right. Sending flowers or chocolates or teddy bears with hearts wasn’t really his style, but maybe… Maybe he could find a way to connect that made her feel safe again. He wasn’t a bad guy. He could take care of her if she got to know him better. Maybe. Possibly.
