Page 76 of Bad Blood Bear

He tried to send her healing energy through the bond. He knew her body would be covered in battle scars now, like the rest of them. He wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that, but he hoped she’d be proud. He’d treasure every one of them.

Her trust and belief had put his broken bear back together, turned him from a killer into what he was supposed to be—a protector. Not only that, but because of her, the Bad Blood Crew really was a crew.

She was everything to him.

It was late morning when he finally left Lissa sleeping and walked out to the living area to make some coffee. He found the others all asleep on the chairs and sofas, Xander snoring under the dining room table.

Flynn was the only one awake, standing at the loft railing, staring out the windows. He already had coffee brewing.

Tank poured two mugs, then walked up the stairs and joined him, leaning his shoulder against Flynn’s. Flynn took his coffee, then wrapped his hand around the back of Tank’s neck and touched foreheads with him, in the way bears did at especially emotional moments.

Tank closed his eyes, feeling the alpha bond. He’d never had an alpha before. He wouldn’t have thought his bear would like it, being dominant himself, but he did. Flynn was a good leader and a strong alpha, and Tank’s bear wasn’t a leader. He was a Protector.

Flynn released him, and they leaned on the railing, shoulders still touching, drinking coffee.

Tank said, “You sleep at all?”

Flynn shook his head. “Not so you’d notice. A couple catnaps.”

“Me neither,” Tank said. “Except a couple of bear naps.”

Flynn gave him one of his crooked grins. Then he nodded down towards the sleeping crew. “They wouldn’t go back to their dens last night,” he said. “They all just hung out until they knew Lissa was okay. And then they hung out some more.”

Tank went quiet, looking down on them. “They really came through for me,” he said. “You all did. Thanks.”

Flynn nudged his shoulder. “We’re a crew.” He grinned again. “Even Xander, God help us.”

Tank laughed. He said, “We’re not seriously going to be called the Bad Blood Crew, are we?”

“Fraid so,” Flynn said. “They outvoted me. Lissa told me that’s what happens when I won’t take charge.”

Tank laughed. “Watch out for her,” he said. “She has a temper.”

“Yeah,” Flynn said. “I like that about her.”

He paused a minute, sipping on his coffee. Then he reached over and touched the claiming mark on Tank’s shoulder. “How do you feel about this?” he said. “It wasn’t exactly the most orthodox mating proposal. And I know you weren’t looking for another bond.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tank said, flexing his shoulder. “There’s something personal I need to take care of. I’ll probably be gone a couple of days.”

Flynn said, “You going to talk to Lissa before you go?”

Tank chewed in his lip, worrying it, and then shook his head. “I don’t want to put this on her. Tell her I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Flynn looked troubled, but he said, “Sure. We’ll take care of her.”

Half an hour later, Tank was behind the wheel of his truck, headed for Georgia.