Brody fell out of bed in the morning, having spent the night before drinking his sorrows. Alcohol had a quick effect on shifters, but they recovered quickly.

Still, he had a bit of a hangover. Even a shifter got a bit fuzzy after a bottle of Jack. He trudged to the bathroom and ran his hand through his white-blond hair.

He groaned and looked at his red-rimmed eyes. He hadn’t felt this crappy in years. The last time he’d drunk so much had been with Chris when they’d graduated high school.

The memory stung. He growled in the mirror. Anger filled his belly. Whoever did this was going to pay.

The turned on the shower and stepped under the warm flow of water that rained down over his tanned skin.

He ran shampoo through his hair and soap over his taut muscles. As he washed, his mind went to the doctor from the day before.

His inner bear, who was still sleepy from drink, growled at him from within his mind.

Mate.

That doctor was his mate. Brody blinked in the dim light of the shower. Emotional highs and lows were surging in his chest. The worst thing that had ever happened to him came on the same day as the best thing that had ever happened.

A shifter finding his mate was a joyous occasion. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it like he should. Brody was a guy who liked to have a good time. He liked to laugh and spend time with friends. He was generally a happy person.

But Chris’s death had planted a black seed in his heart. He’d become bent on revenge since the doctor told him Chris was dead.

Even though that doctor was his mate.

Confusion reeled in his mind. How was he supposed to handle all this? He wished his mom was still alive to talk to. He’d have asked her what to do.

Both his parents had died several years ago in a bad car accident in the snow the winter right after he’d graduated college.

He’d come home to take care of their estate and had stayed to take on the job as game warden. His best friend from high school stayed on to take over his family’s ranch and the two had picked up right where they’d left off.

Chris was about to get married to the sheriff’s daughter, Natalie Charles. Shit, poor Natalie.

She’d be heartbroken.

Brody turned off the shower and stepped out, drying himself in the steamy room.

After he got dressed and ready, he made himself a quick breakfast in his big kitchen. The farmhouse had belonged to his parents. They’d just remodeled it before they’d died. The entire place had been upgraded.

Big kitchen, awesome bathrooms, a wrap-around porch that looked out at the mountains. Brody ate his cereal and looked out the window at the view.

Everyone he’d loved was dead. The black pit in his heart throbbed and he threw the bowl of cereal in the sink. He’d lost his appetite.

Outside in the cooling autumn air, he checked his beehives. It would soon be time to harvest the honey. His dad had been a beekeeper and had taught Brody about how to care for them.

It was one of the most joyful things in his life. But even the sweetness of the honey seemed bitter in a world without his best friend or his parents.

He went around the house to the front driveway and got in his truck. He’d have to patrol the lake today on his rounds, checking fishing licenses and making sure people threw back the small fry.

Tourists came out to the lodge and had no idea that they actually had to get a fishing license to fish in the lake. Educating them about their responsibility to the natural environment was a major part of his job.

He drove down the hill into the valley and turned into the resort parking lot. It wrapped around into a state park where people would fish off the dock.

Dropping out of the truck, he checked his gear and shoved his tickets in his pocket.

Brody began to walk down the trail that led to the parkland around the side of the lake.

It was a brisk, clear day. The steely blue water reflected the big Montana sky in its depths. He took a deep breath of the air, feeling it invigorate his soul.

This was what he needed. To get back outside, smell the water and forest, feel the wind on his skin.

As the turned a corner, he saw some fishermen on the docks several hundred yards away.

As he strode down the trail, a big golden retriever bounded toward him, yipping happily. The dog jumped up to his waist and tried to lick his face. Even for a big dog, there was no way it could reach his face. The animal made Brody laugh.

“Hey boy, where’s your owner?”

“Bucky!” a woman’s voice called through the forest. The curvy doctor he’d met the day before came jogging through the trees with a collar and leash in her hands.

“He slipped his collar,” she said breathlessly, as she caught up to her dog and put the collar back on his neck. “I hope he isn’t bothering you.”

“No. Not at all.”

The dog tried to jump up on Brody again. “Bucky!” Millie scolded as she pulled him down. “I don’t know what got into him. He’s usually so well-behaved.”

“He’s fine. I like dogs.” Brody bent down to pet the dog’s head.

“You’re Brody Oberon. The game warden, right?”

“Yes. We met yesterday at the hospital.”

Brody’s bear roared inside him. Mate! Mate! Mate!

“You kissed my hand,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “What was that about?”

He wanted to grab her and press his lips hard against hers. Damn. His bear wanted him to take her right here. Rut in the woods like a wild thing.

Brody shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed. This doctor probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

“I was overcome by grief,” he said. He wasn’t ready to tell her she was his mate. Too confused to think, he decided to ignore his bear’s passionate growling.

“I’ve never had anyone do that before,” she said, pulling on her dog’s leash as the animal tried to jump on him again. Instead, the golden retriever licked his hand vigorously.

“Jesus, Bucky!” she said, pulling him back and laughing.

“He’s just returning the kiss I gave you,” Brody said.

Millie snorted out a cute little laugh then smirked at him. “That must be it,” she said.

“Have you determined what killed Chris?”

“Yes, actually. I was going to contact you after I walked Bucky. I’m staying at the resort until I find a house. I got a good deal on a month-long package.”

“Nice. I’ve always liked it here. They throw a nice barbeque.”

“Would you like to come up to my room and read the report?” she asked.

“Yes.” He glanced over at the men fishing on the dock and then back down at Millie’s curvy hips. His body shuddered as his bear grumbled with desire.

“Come on,” she said.

He followed her up the path to the entrance of the lake resort and through the front doors. They took a short elevator ride to the second floor and went into her room.

“It’s cheap to stay here this time of year,” she said, unlatching Bucky’s leash. The dog immediately jumped on Brody.

“I think my dog is in love with you,” she said, struggling to get the creature to behave.

Brody liked dogs but he could tell it was giving Millie stress. He looked down at Bucky and let the bear shine through his eyes. A low growl rumbled from the back of his throat, and the dog backed away, going to lie down in the corner.

Millie heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally. Okay let me show you this report.”

She grabbed a pile of papers from her desk and sat down at the end of her bed. She was wearing skin-tight running pants that showed every curve of her luscious behind and thighs.

She waved him over to sit beside her. He didn’t know if he could control himself. When he sat next to her on the bed, the smell of her skin wafted into his nose.

She smelled of cedar and honey. His bear started pacing back and forth, angry that Brody refused to jump on her and mate with her right then and there.

Millie flipped through the papers, and began to explain what she’d found.

“It seems that the fall is what killed him. He had a snapped spinal cord, and his ribs had fractured, puncturing his lungs and heart. If he’d lived, he would have been paralyzed for the rest of his life.”

“He said he was pushed.”

“Okay. That’s the thing. He fell on his back, but he had impact wounds on his front. His stomach was crushed from the front.”

“He was in bear form when I found him. He’d probably fallen that way.”

“Interesting. His back was broken by impact. I can’t determine how the bear’s body related to the man’s. Fascinating really. But if I just look at it as the human injuries, I can see that he was hit from the front and then fell on his back.”

“So whatever hit him, pushed him off the cliff. Something awfully powerful. A truck maybe.”

“That sounds plausible,” she said, standing. “I’ll fax you the full report from the hospital in an hour. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get dressed and take a shower.”

He stood reluctantly, watching her behind as she moved through the room. When he walked to the door, it took every ounce of willpower in his body to leave without telling her she belonged to him.