Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears #4)(42)

Mason leveled him with a look and gripped his tiny shoulders. And with a slow smile, he said, “You’re not.” Pointing to the first trailer on the left, he said, “You know what kind of shifters live there?”

Ryder’s eyes went round. “They have animals, too?”

Mason nodded. “A great grizzly bear and a white tiger.” He pointed to each trailer as he said, “Silverback gorilla, bear, bear,” and when he pointed to the trailer behind him, he grinned even bigger and said, “You know who lives here?”

“Who?”

Mason chuckled at his little owl hoo. “The coolest shifter of all. Your mom. The awesome, fast-flying, sharp-clawed bird of prey, snowy owl.”

“Like me,” Ryder said, the corner of his lips trembling into a smile before it disappeared again.

Mason nodded and pointed to his frail chest. “Just like you.”

“Are you a monster, too?”

“Nah, there’s no monsters here, Ryder. We’re all normal, just like you. You want to guess what kind of animal I have?”

Ryder nodded solemnly. “A bear?”

“Nope.”

“One of Santa’s reindeer?”

Mason laughed and shook his head. “Nope.”

“What are you?”

“I’m a boar shifter.”

“What’s a boar?”

“It’s a big, giant…pig.”

A fit of tinkling giggles shook Ryder’s little shoulders, and the tightness that had been constricting Mason’s chest loosened at the sound of the boy’s laughter. He would be okay. Mason would make sure of it.

Robbie’s yelling reached them on the breeze, and Ryder twisted around, looked scared again, and the next time Mason got a peek at his eyes, they were bright yellow.

“You want to Change?” he asked easily.

“I’m not supposed to.”

“You can Change whenever you want to here. Your mom just Changed last night and flew all around the woods.”

“I cain’t fly yet,” he said in that squeaky voice with the little country accent that was making Mason want to cuddle him up and erase all the damage Robbie had done.

“Ah, but someday you will.”

“All I do is get mad and turn into a little bird and just sit there.”

“Well, that’s what little birds do. You’ll get your flight feathers when you grow up big and strong, and then you can fly all around with your mom.”

Ryder looked off in the direction of Robbie’s yelling, then back at Mason. His eyes were blazing the color of the sun. “I don’t like when he yells at me and Momma. If I Change, you won’t get mad and tell on me?”

“Never. I Change a lot, too.”

“Into a pig?”

Mason grinned. “Yep. Change if you want, and I’ll sit right here and keep you safe, okay?”

Ryder’s little voice dropped to a whisper. “Promise?”

Mason swallowed hard a couple of times. He would bet broken promises to this kid numbered in the hundreds. That wasn’t him, though, and from here on, Mason was going to show him that a man could follow-through and keep his word. “Always.”

And then with a little squeak of pain, Ryder disappeared under his clothes.

Carefully, Mason plucked his green T-shirt away, and his heart froze in his chest as he laid eyes on the tiny, fluffy, gray and white owlet.

Mine.

Choked up on emotion, Mason asked, “Do you want to sit with me?”

Ryder swayed on his feet a few clumsy steps toward Mason, his little curved talons clicking on the wooden board beneath him. He looked up at Mason with those yellow trusting eyes, so much like Beck’s when her animal was close to the surface. He blinked slowly, one eye quicker than the other.

My boy.

As gentle as he could, Mason cupped his hands around Ryder, then rested his back against the side of 1010. And slowly, so he wouldn’t harm one perfect, downy feather on Ryder’s frail body, he cupped the owlet to his chest and let off a trembling breath as he blinked back the burning sensation in his eyes.

My little bird.

When he looked toward the tree line, Robbie’s neck was red and veiny from yelling. Mason locked eyes with Beck, whose face was transforming into the most beautiful smile, like her ex and all his poisonous words had melted away and all she saw was him and Ryder.

Mason returned her smile as a warm, tingling sensation unfurled in his chest.

My family.





Chapter Nineteen


“Mason,” Ryder whispered.

Beck cracked her sleepy eyes open in time to see Mason’s shoulder shake under her son’s little hand. She gave a private smile and stretched.

“Mason,” Ryder said louder.

“Mmmm,” Mason rumbled. “What is it, boy?”

“I’m hungry.” A smile tinged Ryder’s tone. “I want bacon.”

Beck stifled a sleepy laugh. This had been the game for a week straight.

“No bacon in this house, boy.”

Readying for tickles, Ryder hunched in on himself, grinning big in his red flannel pajamas. To her son’s giggling delight, Mason snaked his arm out and pulled Ryder close. Mason tickled him and then released the little early bird, who went scampering into the next room, trailing laughter behind him.