Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears #4)(11)

He didn’t know it, nor would he ever, but her animal had chosen him. And for the millionth time in her life, she hated being a shifter. Hated not having control of her body, of her heart.

Because her animal worked on pure instinct and didn’t understand that Mason Croy, the untouchable beast boar, was the worst decision she could make.





Chapter Five


Mason paced his room. Down to the minutest detail, it looked the same as it had before Damon’s enemy, Marcus, had torched the mansion. Damon was like that, though—thorough, detail oriented, a perfectionist.

He should call Beck. He should apologize and explain, but no. That would require talking about Esmerelda, and he wasn’t there yet. He wouldn’t be able to say what he wanted without Changing and ruining everything. Again.

She shouldn’t have seen his boar that soon. Beck was a classy human not used to the fighting. She wouldn’t understand that he and Clinton had needed to bleed each other. That it was instinct, and that it fixed more than it hurt.

A soft rumble rattled his chest. She shouldn’t have been there. And why the f*ck had Cora and Damon thought an unmated human belonged in Boarlander territory anyway? It couldn’t be to tempt the shit out of him because he didn’t even live there. Didn’t visit there.

The heavy double doors to his room swung open, and Damon glided in uninvited. He had a tendency to do that since he wasn’t used to being told “no.” The dragon simply did what he wanted and, apparently, right now, what he wanted was to piss off Mason.

“What happened yesterday?”

“Nothing. I did as you said, got Beck to your mountains safely. I even fed her.”

Damon pinched the thighs of his charcoal gray dress pants and lifted them an inch before he sat on Mason’s bed. His eyes were lightened to the silver of his dragon, and his pupils dilated in that eerie way that reminded Mason of a snake. Apparently Mason’s animal had the dragon in Damon riled up, which was one hell of a dangerous game to play.

“Clara has told me something unsettling.”

“That the new chef sucks? Because he does, and he’s an *.”

“You’ve never had a single complaint about my staff before, nor have you had a problem getting along with anyone. Clara says you have a ghost problem.”

Mason stopped his pacing and leveled Damon with a calculating look. Damon’s mate was a clairvoyant. Or maybe a psychic or a seer, but she could definitely see ghosts. She’d seen all of Damon’s phantoms the second she’d set foot in his mansion a couple years ago.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Young, dark hair, dark eyes, beautiful. She follows you around but only late at night when you’re getting ready for bed and are about to sleep. Clara says she sees her clear as day, and while my mate doesn’t know your whole story, I do. And I would be willing to bet Esmerelda is part of the reason you are struggling now. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mason swallowed hard and whispered, “She was beautiful.”

“She also died ten years ago.”

“Yeah, and how long before you moved on from your first mate? Huh? How long until you moved on from Feyadine?”

“It was different for me.”

“Why?”

“It just was.”

“Tell me why you were allowed to mourn your mate like you wanted, and I’m not!”

“Because I had all the time in the world to mourn her. Centuries if I wanted them. You have one short life, Mason. Ten years is enough. Maybe it was too much.” Damon gripped the edge of the mattress and leaned forward, eyes softening to a medium gray. “You aren’t supposed to live your whole life alone. Esmerelda wouldn’t have wanted that. If she’s here now, it’s because you made her spirit restless. You conjured her by hanging on too damn tight. Let. Her. Go.” Damon stood to leave, but when he reached the door, he turned. “I want you out of this house.”

“Are you firing me?”

“No, old friend. I’m setting you free. You will be Beck’s driver. You will move into your old trailer at the Boarland Mobile Park, and I’ll pay you the same salary I do now. You’re using this house as a crutch. This job as a crutch. Me…as a crutch.”

“That’s not true. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. Surely, you understand you weren’t ever just my employee. I didn’t take you from your * people because I pitied you. I took you because you needed a friend, and I needed that, too.”

“It’s not as simple as just moving back there, Damon.”

“Do you know what happens to a tree that never succeeds in putting down roots?”

It dies. Was Mason dying inside? Hell, it sure felt like it. He’d figured out how to survive, but living was something that had always stayed just out of reach. He’d been closest to it when he’d spent a season logging with the Boarlanders.

But…

Mason had left for a reason. He’d been dreaming of Esmerelda, and he didn’t want Harrison and his crew to feel the effects of his downward spiral. The Boarlander alpha already had enough on his plate with Clinton and trying to bring his crew out of a deep, dark hole. They had their own problems to overcome, new mates, and intricate new relationships that only worked if one of the crew wasn’t dragging them all to Hell.