The Bear's Redemption

Chapter 8

Makini

I’m still lying against a tree, arms folded behind my head, soaking up the bit of peace we’re allowed these days. The girls are still sprawled on the grass after sparring. They laugh and shove each other like puppies. Then, a shadow falls over me.

“Hello, Sergeant Gorgeous,” a lazy voice drawls above me.

I don’t even bother opening my eyes.

“Myan,” I sigh.

Resident flirt. Tivani’s twin. Tiger shifter. Professional troublemaker.

“I thought I told you what would happen to your tiger jewels if you didn’t stop with the nicknames,” I say, opening one eye to glare.

He smirks down at me, completely unbothered. Except for the way his hands shift, not so subtly, to shield said valuable parts.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he says, all mock-serious, "I forgot you prefer Yogi over Tigger.”

I sit up so quickly that I almost headbutt him. My glare could peel paint.

Across from me, Sasha snorts, and then, with monumental effort, reins it back in. I narrow my eyes at her.

“I only told Vani!” She defends herself quickly, raising her hands as if I’m going to arrest her. Then, she points a finger at Tivani when she sees my glare, with not a thread of loyalty to her friend.

Tivani shrugs, completely unrepentant. “I told many, many people.”

“Told them what exactly?” I demand, outraged, heart sinking, “There is nothing to tell!”

Sasha looks like she’s trying not to choke on laughter. Tivani’s eyes sparkle. And Myan, Myan, leans in closer, all teeth and mischief.

“That you can’t stop staring at a certain Grumpy Bear, and I hear there have been some snuggles."

My water bottle soars through the air before he finishes his sentence, hitting him right in the forehead. He stumbles back dramatically, clutching his face and whining like a baby.

“You abuse me,” he moans. “This is why you're still single.”

“As if that is the reason,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face.

Tivani laughs so hard that she falls over. Meanwhile, Sasha stops trying to look innocent.

I shake my head, biting back a grin. It’s impossible to stay mad at them.

I can't help but feel that, despite everything, this messy, loud, and ridiculous group is exactly where I belong.

Tivani, still wheezing with laughter, scrambles to her feet. She grabs Myan by the arm and, throwing a dramatic look over her shoulder, declares,

“Come, brother. It’s no longer safe for us here; some serious hate-on-tiger vibes flying around.”

Myan clutches at his imaginary wounds, staggering like he has been fatally wounded.

I roll my eyes. Tigers. They sure are dramatic shifters. Funny, considering they’re five-hundred-pound killing machines.

The two of them disappear, stage left, with Myan throwing me one last wink like he’s won something. Idiots.

Kitari and Sasha are still giggling, heads close together like kids at a sleepover.

That’s when a shifter I’ve seen around a few times, quiet, nervous, walks over. He hands Kitari and Sasha each a bottle of water, fidgeting like the ground’s going to swallow him any second.

“Watched your spar,” he says, voice low. “You guys are… impressive.”

He awkwardly shifts from foot to foot, avoiding eye contact.

“Thought you might, uhm, need some water,” he adds, nearly tripping over his own words.

Sasha beams at him like he’s handed her a gold medal. Kitari blushes, which, frankly, is adorable.

“Thanks, Lionel,” Sasha adds.

He lowers his head and quickly jogs away, disappearing around a corner with his shoulders raised to his ears.

“Poor guy,” Kitari quietly states, watching him go. “He’s one of the ones we rescued on the last op. He’s been pretty withdrawn, so I’m glad he approached us today. It might be a sign he’s healing.”

I follow her gaze, watching Lionel disappear between two buildings.

Physically, he seems fine; no visible injuries, moves easily enough, but mentally?

No one really knows.

Our first op here is seared into my brain. The cages. The smell. Some were barely breathing when we found them. Others weren't so lucky.

I shove the memory down hard. No use dragging it up now.

I glance back toward where Lionel went, frowning. There’s something about the way he moves, a little too nervous, a little too aware of who’s watching him.

But hell, what do I know? I’m still quite new to this world. Here, people grow claws and fangs. Their instincts are sharper than any human’s.

Maybe he is traumatized. Maybe he's healing.

I let it go. For now.

We chill a while longer when Kitari groans, “s**t, it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Well, you did spar with a dragon,” I quip.

“Argh, I need to go lie down.” She continues, and I realize she’s gone paler, and with her fair complexion that is quite a mean feat.

Sasha looks concerned. “Let’s get you checked at the Med Wing.”

“No, it’s okay. Just need to rest.”

“Okay.” I get up and offer her a hand. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

She doesn’t even argue. Sasha falls in step beside us, and I glance around; the field’s clear. Everyone’s done with training and already in the hall for lunch.

“Oh gosh,” Sasha mutters. "I forgot how hungry I am.”

“New plan,” I say, grinning. “Drop the foxy off in bed, then food.”

As we near the building, Sasha stumbles, almost going down.

“Oh jeepers,” she gasps again, "I'm also feeling a bit out of it.”

Now my instincts flare up hard. I scan the surroundings. Something’s wrong.

“Okay, let’s get you inside,” I say as I hurry them along.

We round the corner when I hear it, the distinct click of a gun being c****d.

Before I can react, a shot ring out.

In the middle of the Reserve.

Kuma

I’m still sprawled out on the gym floor with Koda. I should get going to chat to My about Lionel, but I need to do something first; I need to check on my little brother. I turned to face him, and for a moment, my chest tightens.

Stars, I'm proud of him.

Koda, my brother, was the best thing that my parents ever did for me.

They started the first big shifter resistance army. They were fighters to their core. On a scouting mission years ago, they found Koda deep in the woods, barely alive. He must have been about five or six, a tiny, feral scrap of a thing. Severely malnourished, too weak to even shift.

He didn’t remember how long he'd been alone, living in fear, hiding away. Didn't even know how he'd gotten there.

An Arctic wolf shifter, wild and lost.

Since day one, he latched onto me, and I became overprotective of him. I never thought I could love anyone this fiercely.

And every time he looks at me with those arctic lilac eyes, I’ll agree with anything he asks without a second thought. He doesn’t ask much, though. Other than to stand with him. To trust him. To fight beside him.

Right now, his shoulders are relaxed, but I can see the faint tension still in his eyes. Like he's holding something back, like he always does.

Koda has his demons. They’re buried deep, and he doesn’t always let them out, but I know.

Sometimes I see it in the quiet moments, when he thinks no one is watching. His eyes drift away. His shoulders slump, as if everything is crushing him inside.

It breaks me every time, seeing him like that.

He tries to hide it, but Koda is my brother. I’ve seen it too many times now. The deep depression that settles over him like a thick fog, drowning everything in its path. It’s like the old version of him, the scared kid hiding in the woods, broken and starving, still hasn’t fully let go.

The fear and the loneliness that are stitched into his soul.

I make sure he gets out, gets exercise. I make sure he talks. Even when he doesn’t want to. Even when he thinks he can hide it.

He needs it. I need it.

It's a gut-wrenching thing to watch him wrestle with that darkness. I know there’s not much I can do except be there for him. Sometimes the weight is too much, and I can see it in his training. When he pushes himself too hard, moving with that dangerous focus, like he's trying to outrun it. Trying to outrun the past.

But I can’t let him do that.

Not alone.

I glance at him again, and this time he meets my eyes. He doesn’t look away. His face softens a little, that tiny but real smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He doesn’t know how much that smile means to me.

I sit up again as he does and throw an arm around him, even when he doesn’t ask for it.

“So,” I say, “how’s Bells?” I ask to get him talking.

“He’s good,” he says, brushing a hand through his hair. “Broke into another server the military was using. Found some hidden files…"

He launches into a string of tech jargon: servers, encryption, packet interception and I catch maybe every third word.

I grunt and nod along like I understood, but honestly? He might as well have been speaking another language.

Koda and Bellamy always do.

I can’t help the small, proud feeling that warms my chest again.

Koda, shy, closed-off Koda, has somehow found a friend that fits him like a missing piece. Bellamy somehow slipped right past his walls like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And then Kitari came along, and now the three of them are inseparable. Thick as thieves.

Sometimes I worry about the way both boys look at Kitari when they think no one is watching.

But worrying wouldn’t change anything. They have good heads on their shoulders. They’ll figure it out.

Koda keeps talking quickly. His hands move as he explains a trick Bells uses to trace a signal without setting off alarms.

I smile a little, listening.

Let them have this. Let them have each other.

They deserve it after everything.

“And you, brother? How is the Master Sergeant?" he asks, looking thoughtful. But when I glance at him, I spot a smirk and mischief in his eyes.

I toss my towel at him and flop down on my back and groan out, “Don’t even go there."

Koda snorts, “That bad, hey?"

Yes, little brother, it's that bad. The cute little Master Sergeant is actively trying to ignore me lately. I have to say, she’s not being very subtle about it. She has a real stealthy operation going. She swerves like a pro whenever I enter a room. Even when we lock eyes, she acts like she didn’t see me. Then, she suddenly finds important papers to shuffle as I walk by.

Stars, it’s adorable.

The way she flusters whenever I’m near? The twitch of her jaw, the way her voice goes just a little higher when she pretends nothing’s wrong. Yeah, I notice. I pretend not to. Keep my expression calm, unreadable. But inside?

I’m enjoying every second of it.

The fact that she’s this affected? That means I’m not alone in this madness. That night wasn’t just some drunken misstep. That kiss, we both felt it. I know I did. And judging by the way she nearly short-circuits when our hands brush in passing, she did too.

Jax and Sasha have been relentless. Constant teasing. Loud whispers and not-so-innocent questions. Makini seems ready to pull them both into the training ring to show them what regret truly means. I don’t blame her, but it’s also kind of hilarious. And heart-melting.

She’s so obviously overwhelmed, so not used to letting her guard down. I get it. I've been through a lot too, so I know it's tough to let someone in. It's especially hard when you're the one everyone counts on to stay sharp, in control, and untouchable. She’s built herself out of iron and wildfire.

So I’m giving her a little time. A little space. Letting her breathe without pushing.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t look. It doesn't mean I don’t enjoy every damn moment I get to see her laugh. Gods, that laugh, it lights something in me. Like hearing the world and remembering what it means to be alive.

And her scent? Always her scent. Warm, rich, electric. Like the promise of a storm right before it breaks.

So yeah. We’re playing a long game here. I can wait. I will wait.

Because I’m not giving up on her.

Not even close.

“Creo que estoy enamorado,” I mutter the confession to my little brother, and it’s true, the sassy sergeant is deep under my skin.

“So is this a thing?” he asks, slapping me on the shoulder.

"Sounds like you're ready for round two, or should we call it?" I ask, interrupting the little hooligan mid-sentence.

Koda grins, a flash of mischief in his eyes. "You think you can keep up, old man?"

It’s a tease, but I can see the relief in his face. He’s okay for now. He’s with me.

And that’s all I can do. Keep him moving. Keep him talking. Keep him alive.

We’re about to step into the ring when we hear it. A sound slices through the air, sharp and violent, like lightning wrapped in metal. Unmistakable. Gunshot.

We are both running before the ringing of the shot even ends.