Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1)

“We should probably sit,” Baer said in one small concession to Clay’s warning.

Clay remained standing with his arms folded over his chest, ready to jump in if something should go wrong. Not that he was even sure what he’d do if something did go wrong.

Baer and Grey sat on the ground, facing each other with their legs folded. Grey lightly rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths and slowly releasing them again. Baer watched him, one eyebrow cocked and his head tilted to the side.

“Should we like, hold hands or something?”

Grey’s lips twisted like he was fighting a smile. When the brief expression was wiped from his face, he opened his strangely colored eyes and looked directly at Baer. “I need to look into your eyes.”

“You sure? I’ve got really nice hands.”

“You’re nervous. Very nervous. And you make jokes to hide the fact that you’re nervous. You don’t want anyone to know that anything bothers you,” Grey said in a low, dreamy voice. “You don’t want anyone to know that you’ve been so completely lost and alone for so very long. The only one you trust with the truth is Ruby. She doesn’t judge you.”

“Grey—” Baer managed to croak out.

“Except this place. It feels like home, and it scares you. Scares you that you’re going to fuck everything up. Just like in Colorado.”

“Back off, Grey,” Clay growled.

“What happened in Colorado, Baer?” Grey pushed.

Clay pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to separate him from Baer. The point was for Grey to try out his powers, and Baer had offered himself up as a guinea pig. If Baer wanted him to stop, he could get up and walk away, right? Or maybe that was a bonus of Grey’s powers. Baer couldn’t move unless Grey released him.

Baer’s discomfort rankled Clay’s nerves, but they needed to know what Grey was capable of.

“Oh,” Grey said softly with a hint of laughter in his voice. “It was a boy. A cute boy you were trying to impress.” Grey paused and his forehead furrowed as his eyebrows drew together over his nose. He was concentrating, his eyes practically drilling a hole straight into Baer’s brain without ever blinking. “A group of friends went camping one summer before your senior year. Went…skinny dipping.” Grey’s words became softer and more strained, as if he were fighting Baer for the memory. “A fish…a fish…bit…the end of your dick.”

Clay’s mouth dropped open, and Grey blinked a few times.

Whatever magic had been holding Baer in place was broken, but Clay didn’t know if Grey had released him or if Baer had freed himself. The redhead moved away from Grey, turning his back on the man. His arms were folded over his chest.

“Totally sucked. Called me Fish Dick after that,” Baer grumbled under his breath.

“Baer…” Clay tried, but he halted whatever he was going to say because he wasn’t sure he could say it without laughing. As it was, the first chuckles were trying to fight their way out.

Grey made a choking sound, and it was clear he was losing the fight not to laugh.

“Oh, fuck you both!” Baer growled. He shook and he lost his human form. An enormous grizzly bear with thick brown fur was now sitting in his place.

The bear rolled to his feet and lumbered over to stand directly in front of Grey. The other Weaver didn’t move a muscle but continued to meet the bear’s black gaze. Clay’s heart stopped. His brain was frantically reminding him that Baer was still himself in that form. Human instincts were in full panic mode. Logic be damned.

“Come on, Boo-Boo. It’s been years. You know it’s funny,” Grey teased.

The bear opened its mouth and let out an ear-splitting roar right in Grey’s face. The man paled but refused to back down. Clay had to admit that Grey had balls. Not an ounce of self-preservation or common sense. But definitely balls.

“You know I can feel your embarrassment. You’re not angry,” Grey continued. He lowered his voice until Clay could barely hear him. He swore he heard Grey say, “If you can’t trust your family with the embarrassing shit, what’s the point of having them?”

Baer made some kind of grumbly noise deep in his chest. He continued forward, not giving Grey enough time to climb to his feet. The massive bear flopped on Grey, almost completely covering him.

“Get off! Get off me, you fucking throw rug! You’re crushing me!” Grey shouted.

Clay clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to catch the bark of laughter that escaped. Baer had to have become an easy five hundred pounds when he shifted.

Lifting his head, Baer unfurled a ridiculously long pink tongue and licked up the side of Grey’s face. The man cried out and worked one arm free to shove at Baer in earnest.