Chapter 5

Mac raised his hand to the leaving group of women, then closed the door to the bar and headed back inside. All of them were going to the rut the next night, but the realization gave him no satisfaction. He was over the ruts, and pissed off that he still had to do the leg work for them. Someone else needed to take over, stat. Someone who was still benefitting from them instead of being terminally frustrated by them, like he was.

If he could just scratch that fucking itch… but random females didn’t feel right. Jerking off was the only thing that his body was ok with recently, and that was no fucking fun. Fuck! If he had to wait another year or two for his one true mate to show up, he was going to flip his lid. If he got one at all. There was no guarantee…

To his right sat a pissed-off looking male with long hair mostly covered by a black leather do-rag. Not a cop. He’d been eyeing Mac and Bruin for the last hour, seriously putting himself on Mac’s radar. Ol’ boy snorted as Mac went by. Mac shot him a look. He wasn’t fucking, so he might as well fight, and if leather do-rag was a not-cop in a cop bar, that’s probably exactly what he was looking for. Wade would have his ass, but Mac could go for some knock-down, drag-out right about now. It would take the edge off.

Mac turned and walked backwards, glaring at leather do-rag, but the guy had turned his attention elsewhere. Just as well. Mac slid into the booth across from Bruin, shaking his head at the male’s burger and fries. “Hurry up. We have to be at the station by one. They are going to hypnotize Beckett’s girl to get more information on Grey. See if he said anything that might tip us off to where he was living.”

The guy in the black do-rag snorted again. Mac cast a look that way, but the male had already looked away. Fucking troublemaker.

“Beckett’s lucky,” Bruin said, around a mouthful of fries.

Mac snorted. Whatever. “Yeah? How so?”

Bruin shrugged. “You know, he found his…” His voice dropped and he looked around the room before he finished his sentence in a whisper. “His one true mate.”

Mac nodded. He knew the feeling of being ready but still having empty arms. It sucked. “You’ll find yours. It just might take a little while.”

Bruin shook his head and shoveled in a few more fries. “Nah, bearen don’t get any. Well, one might, but it won’t be me.”

Mac snuck a fry. “What are you talking about?”

Bruin dropped the last of his fries and pushed his plate away. He’d finally had enough. In Mac’s eyes, it was nothing short of a bear-freaking-miracle. A bearacle, Bruin might say. Mac snorted, but before he could tell Bruin, the big male’s eyes looked anywhere but at Mac and he spoke as if reciting something he’d memorized in school, something that pained him terribly.

“The bearen have lost their way and now they will pay. Only the Bear of Great Insight can renew them, make them worthy again. Through the strength and purity of his choices and the caring of his one true mate, all bearen will be restored to their former glory, able to work as one again.”

This time Mac was the one who looked around to see who might be listening. Leather do-rag was facing the other way, but that didn’t mean anything. Mac dropped his voice low and leaned over the table, almost talking in Bruin’s ear. “Is that a prophecy?”

Black do-rag turned and caught Mac’s eye as he sat his ass back in the booth. The male snorted and Mac shot him a dirty look. Mac looked back at Bruin, not liking the sick look on Bru’s face.

Bruin licked his lips and leaned forward, mirroring Mac’s volume. “Yeah, but our Citlali don’t get prophecy anymore. That was the last one that came through. Most bearen believe none of us will get one true mates until the Bear of Great Insight gets his and redeems us, if even then.” He hung his head. “We messed up.”

Mac frowned. “I’ve never heard of this before.”

“We are forbidden to speak of it.”

Mac leaned back in the booth and nodded heavily, surprised Bruin was telling him. Black do-rag guy snorted again. Mac curled his lip and turned that way, tension making his fists close. “I’m going to have to kick his ass soon.”

Bruin looked over. “He’s just jealous. You should feel sorry for him.”

“I can feel sorry for him and kick his ass at the same time.”

Bruin raised an eyebrow. “Can you?”

Black do-rag pushed away from the bar and stood, walking heavily past Mac and Bruin, his work boots thudding on the floor. Mac locked eyes with him, assessing him. Finally, Mac would get to work off some of his tension. His peripheral vision ate the male up, looking for any sign of weapons or weaknesses.

But black do-rag’s feet kept going, steadily headed for the bathroom. Just after he passed Mac and Bruin he growled, “This bromance turn homance yet?”

That was it. Mac heaved to his feet, but Bruin grabbed his arm to keep him in place and called after the guy, “It’s not a bromance. It’s a bearmance.”

Mac shook his head and dropped back into the booth, still tight. “What in the hell is a bearmance?”

Bruin leaned forward, his hand on Mac’s arm, whispering, “He doesn’t know I’m a real bear. He just thinks we are big hairy gay guys.”

Mac pulled his arm out of Bruin’s reach and smacked himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand, rolling his eyes so hard they hurt.

Bruin snapped his fingers in front of Mac’s face and said, “Forget him. No fights today.” He looked around the bar. “Let’s practice your pick-up lines. You need a ton of work. Pick the hottest girl in the place.”

Mac frowned. He’d rather fight, but Bruin was right, he didn’t need the hassle. He ran his eyes over all the women in the place. None of them were quite what he was into, but a hottie in the far corner caught his eye. He pointed her out to Bruin and said, “Her.”

Bruin nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “I should’ve known you’d pick the only girl in the place who’s tall enough to walk the runway without heels. Short girls need love, too, you know.”

Mac snorted. “I’ll save them for you. You only weigh like 400 pounds. How do you not crush them?”

Bruin ran a hand through his thick hair. “We bears are rather delicate lovers.”

Mac snorted again and shook his head. Bruin shot him a look.

“You ever heard of tantric sex, Mac?”

Mac nodded, a frown on his face. “Sex without sex.”

“Not exactly. Just without moving so much.”

“What’s the point, then?”

Bruin tapped a finger to his temple. “The mental connection.”

Mac leaned back in the booth and folded his arms over his chest. He’d heard enough. “Sex isn’t in the mind, Bruin. It’s in the body. Are you sure you’re not a virgin? Go with me to the rut tomorrow night. I could show you how it’s done.”

Bruin’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward across the table. “So, you’re going then?”

Mac shrugged. He hadn’t decided, but he knew where he was leaning. “Maybe not. I’m not feeling it.”

Bruin leaned back in his seat and his hands fell to his sides, slipping off the table in a way that made Mac think of a drunkard. Bruin’s face went slack and his voice dropped an octave. His eyes stared through Mac and his words made Mac’s heart beat faster. “Good, because your mate will be there. And if she sees you with another woman, she’ll never accept you. You don’t want to get off to a bad start or you might never get another chance. She’s not a very forgiving one, your rogue.”

Tension shot through Mac’s body. His hands curled into involuntary fists and his mouth filled with saliva. “What?” he sputtered, still trying to put together everything Bruin had said.

Bruin shook himself and looked around for a second before he focused on Mac. He looked normal again, just confused. “What?”

Mac’s fingers dug into the table. “You just said my mate is going to be at the rut. You got all weird and then you said it.”

Bruin’s face reddened under his beard and his eyes slid away from Mac’s. He stood, his thighs hitting the table and forcing it a few inches towards Mac. His lips worked like he was flustered, and his face reddened more. Mac had never seen him flustered before. Bruin was always as cool as an icebox.

Bruin took a step away from their table. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and headed for the bathroom. Mac stared at the spot where Bruin’s broad back had been long after it turned the corner of the hallway. His mind raced. His mate would be at the rut? He couldn’t think of a worse situation, if it was true. If he recognized her in the act with someone else, he would kill the male, certainly. And her? He sucked in a deep breath, trying to cool the fire in his chest before he thought about that. He’d have to meet all the females at the door. Test them. Touch them. Make sure none of them belonged to him…

His mind took the image and ran with it, leaving him with no peace.

When Bruin finally returned, his sleeves and even his collar were wet, as if he had been splashing copious amounts of water on his face. He couldn’t meet Mac’s eyes, still seeming flustered, off his game.

Mac couldn’t wait for him to get himself together. He had to know. His voice a low growl, he said, “Bruin, man, bear, tell me what the hell is going on. I gotta know.”

Bruin pushed a hand through his hair again, then met Mac’s eyes. “I’ve never told you this before, but I do that sometimes. I haven’t done it in awhile and I guess I hoped it was over.”

“Do what?”

Bruin shrugged. “I guess I see the future.”

See the motherfucking future. Mac really was going to meet his one true mate. Hope and something thicker, almost like anxiety, threaded through him. What he was anxious about he couldn’t say, but the feeling was unbearable. Distract. Snark it up. Focus on something else. He shot out of his seat and rounded the table to get close to Bruin, pulling at Bruin’s shirt. “Holy shit. Are you a Citlali? Do you have a star renqua?”

Bruin swung an arm around and caught Mac in the chest, making Mac stagger back five steps, catching his lower back against the bar. Mac rubbed his chest, feeling like he’d been hit there with a sledgehammer. He watched Bruin’s face. Flustered and pissed. Two new emotions for Bruin. But was he really pissed? He didn’t look pissed. Just tired, and a little worried about how Mac would react, his eyes searching Mac’s face. Mac bet that Bruin hadn’t meant to hit him that hard, he was just strong.

Mac went back to the table and sat down in his seat, not quite able to identify what he was feeling. His face was hot and he couldn’t meet Bruin’s eyes. He grabbed Bruin’s discarded menu and began to tear up one of the corners. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Bruin rubbed a hand up the side of his face. “Remember yourself with your friends.”

Friends? Mac had never considered the dickheads he hung out with his friends. More like his acquaintances. Until now, he’d never known anyone he cared enough about to call them friend.

Mac stared at the big male and realized Bruin was right. Bruin was his friend, and Mac needed to figure out how to act right before he fucked that up.