Chapter 3

Naomi, ensconced on the sturdy family couch, held the ice pack to her throbbing face and listened with only half an ear as her family fought. Francine-the crowing and snickering bitch-had escaped and left her to the tender mercies of her family.

"I'll teach that fucking lacrosse player to not pay attention to the game and let our sister get hurt," Derrick ranted punching his fist into the palm of his other hand.

"I say we hunt bloody forty-four and sixty-nine down. Let's tie their asses up and whip some rubber balls at their face and see how they like it," yelled Stu. "Who's with me?" A chorus of cheers met his plan.

"Naomi should have been paying attention to the play." That came from Chris who followed up his statement with an "Oomph" as someone took offence at his criticism.

Chris, only a year older than her and most often the victim of her mood swings as the slowest brother, always held the least amount of sympathy for her. And yet, despite his words, he would stand first in line to kick the ass of anyone who ever intentionally hurt her.

On and on the bickering went, peppered with the occasional shove and slap.

When the noise level began to make, her already throbbing head, ache even worse, she lobbed the ice pack at her nearest brother with unerring accuracy, clocking him hard upside the head. Instant silence settled on the room as six pairs of eyes swiveled to look at her.

"If you're all done arguing, I'd like to go home now," she stated quietly. Her looming brothers and father all took a step back, her calm words a warning they knew all too well. She rose from the couch, her short and curvy, five foot four frame taut. The room spun and nausea made her stomach roil.

"Now, baby girl," her father began in a placating tone. "You should lie back down. The doc said you've got a concussion."

"Which is already healing," she interrupted. "Shifter blood, remember?" One of the advantages of owning Lycan blood was the ability to heal quicker than humans. Of course, quicker didn't mean instant, so while she waited, she'd still suffer some discomfort.

"Still," her father continued bravely. "The doctor said we should keep an eye on you, just in case you faint or something before your body has a chance to fully cure the problem."

Naomi crossed her arms over her chest, resisting an urge to sit before her trembling legs gave out. "Are you trying to tell me I can't go home?" She arched a brow and her father swallowed.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, let her go. If she wants to cause a car accident and maybe kill some hapless pedestrian by being pig headed and driving herself home, then let her."

The heated glare she shot Chris's way made her head spin. Worse, her brother stuck his tongue out knowing she didn't feel well enough to make him hurt for it. "If I weren't a lady, I'd kick your scrawny little ass," she muttered. She ignored the snickers and the whispered, "Since when is she a lady' comment that followed her words only because of her throbbing head.

A sigh escaped her as her brother's truthful words battled her stubborn nature. Much as she hated giving in to their no driving order-well-intentioned or not-she wouldn't operate a motor vehicle if she could prove a danger to others. "Fine, so if I can't drive myself, then who is taking me home?"

Six pairs of eyes found the ceiling suddenly intensely interesting.

Irritation made her lips draw tight. "Oh, come on. Surely one of you idiots can handle my car?"

Kendrick cleared his throat before speaking. "Um, the last time Mitchell drove your car, you almost castrated him because he didn't shift it to your satisfaction. You told us never to touch your car again, or else."

Naomi blew out a breath. Pussies. How could they blame her for taking offence at the brutish manner with which they drove her baby? They'd deserved each, and every, smack. And then, they had the nerve to wonder why she wanted to get away from the shifters and their violence. They bloody well drove her to it.

"I am not staying here." Not with her mother due home within the hour from work. Once her mom walked through that door, Naomi would be lucky if she got to leave a bed within the next three days. The men in her family might fear their baby sister even as they coddled her, but everyone obeyed their mother. Nobody owned the balls not to.

The doorbell rang and as one, her family dove to answer, leaving her alone. Naomi shook her head. Afraid of little old me? Good.

Not interested in the caller, Naomi walked with ginger steps so as to not jostle her aching head into the kitchen to look for some alcohol. The Tylenol she'd taken, twelve pills so far, had done almost nothing for her pain. Banned from driving and lacking a chauffeur, she might as well get a little drunk, a plan forgotten as the snarls started from the front of the house.

"Now what?" she grumbled as she stalked toward the fracas, lancing pain rousing her temper.

A wall of brothers stood between her and the menacing growls of her daddy, which ran counterpoint to some unknown deeper rumble and a more feline yowl-both which sent shivers skating down her spine, and not the unpleasant kind.

A few well-placed elbows and she'd shoved her way to the front of the crowd to find her father facing off, nose to nose, with non-other than the behemoth from the lacrosse match. She'd have recognized him anywhere seeing as how not too many Kodiak bears chose to live near civilization. And damn, but up close like this he appeared even larger than expected, completely towering over her and wider than logic dictated a male should be.

Seven foot and a bit of bristling bear stood at her front door, and not just any bear, but one who'd injured her. No wonder her canine family acted so agitated. Actually, so was she for that matter and not just because of the ball she'd almost swallowed, her wolf started spinning in circles inside her head with excitement and Naomi didn't like it one freakn' bit. It didn't help that this close to the behemoth, awareness lit up all the nerves in her body, and an inhalation of his scent sent moist heat to her cleft. Oh, like hell is this hulking bear my bloody mate.

Squeezing herself between her father and number forty-four, she jabbed her finger into his chest. She might as well have poked a brick wall because the flesh of his chest didn't give one iota. On the other hand, that brief contact sent a sizzling bolt through her system.

Failed poke or not, it did, however, catch his attention. Brown eyes broke off their staring match with her father and rotated down to peer at her. He inhaled deep as he stared at her, increasing the tingle that ran through her body like an electric jolt. It fired up more than her cleft-it sparked her ire.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded rudely, clenching her fists at her side before she gave in to the urge to stroke the firm chest in front of her.

"I, um, wanted to see if you were okay and say I'm sorry you, um, got hurt." His halting words rumbled pleasantly over her skin. Naomi, unable to resist, sucked in a breath and found her senses flooded with a titillating whiff of soap, bear and male musk all of which sent her wolf into a tizzy.

Oh god, I need to get him out of here, pronto. "I'm fine. Bye." She waited, but as she feared, he didn't just turn around and leave.

"Um, that wasn't the only reason I came."

Flowers were suddenly thrust in her face, a wild bouquet of blooms that made her want to sneeze. She batted them to the side. She narrowed her eyes up at him and enjoyed the way it made him swallow. He fears me. Good. "What else do you want? Isn't it enough I've got two black eyes and a headache the size of Quebec?"

"I'm really sorry about that. I was kind of distracted." His brown eyes looked so pained that Naomi fought an urge to tell him it was okay-and throw herself in his arms. "Actually that's part of the other reason I'm here. See, I-uh-well, that is, I think we're mates." He stammered the words out and ruddy color flushed his cheeks.

Her greatest fear spoken aloud, panic gripped her and she lost her mind. "Over my dead fucking body we are. You've got a lot nerve coming here," she yelled, her shrill tone making her headache flare stronger. "As if I'd waste any of my time with a guy who can't even catch one little rubber ball. Now, go away and just forget about me."

"But-"

Naomi froze him with an icy glare at odds with her melting pussy. She fought to hold onto her anger, a feat harder than expected when confronted with almost seven towering feet of muscled male. His square craggy features should have turned her off with their obvious lack of gentle refinement, but instead she found herself intrigued by his square jaw, his crooked nose and his soft eyes framed by thick dark lashes. He kept his hair short in a military type brush cut that displayed the gold hoop in one of his ears.

As for his body, he stood too close for her to ogle it, but since the lacrosse game, she could imagine it-from his extremely wide shoulders dropping down to a tapered waist that led into thick muscled thighs and an ass of steel. I wonder if his cock is as big as the rest of him. Naomi bit her lip at the train of her thoughts. I do no care what he looks like. This Neanderthal is not my mate.

"I'm sorry. Do you have a hard time understanding English? I told you to leave." Her brusque tone made his eyes turn puppy dog sad and she wanted to smack her forehead on something hard-say like his delicious chest?

Snickers, which turned into outright laughter, erupted from behind the wall of flesh in front of her. Naomi couldn't help but crane sideways to see who found the untenable situation so amusing before she resorted to violence. And my family knows how I hate it when that happens. Try to be a lady and no one listens. They'll start paying attention when my foot starts connecting with some soft spots.

Her icy gaze caught the attention of yet another lacrosse player, and her wolf just about slobbered in excitement all over mind. Oh, hell no. As her gaze became caught by the eyes of dark haired number sixty-nine from the lacrosse match, she wanted to hurt something really bad because if she wasn't mistaken, the damned kitty cat in front of her-another testosterone pumped male-was also her mate. Not two. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel? While not all that common, she knew mating could occur in pairs or more, she'd just never assumed it would happen to her. No fair. I don't even want one. Why the hell do I suddenly have two on my doorstep?

Irritation held over panic-barely. She focused her ire on the jerk who found the situation so hilarious. "I wouldn't laugh seeing how it was your poor aim that gave me my rainbow face and headache."

Actually, number sixty-nine's humor had dried up the moment their gazes caught, and if she weren't in such shock herself , she would have enjoyed his dropped jaw and the look of fear-and smoking desire-that crossed his face.

"Uh. Uh." Like a slack jawed idiot, the suave looking number sixty-nine couldn't even mutter a coherent sentence.

"Apparently you've gotten a ball to many in the head, too. Now if you don't want my foot to get shoved up your butt, because I am just about to lose my temper, then I'd suggest you get your asses out of here."

"But," the behemoth tried to interrupt.

"Go away," she screamed, meaning to follow up her panicky plea with action. Vertigo along with a blinding pain in her head, though, made her unable to do what she wanted-which closely resembled running away and escaping the sure mess these two men would surely try and make of her life. She only managed an "Ah, fuck," as her family and doctor's prediction came true. She succumbed, unwillingly, to unconsciousness.