Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
CHARLOTTE
Ahigh-pitched beeping dragged me from sleep.
I blinked at the ceiling, my thoughts foggy and slow. Sunlight streamed through the windowpanes and made tiny squares on the hardwood floor. How long had I slept?
The beeping continued, the alarm shrill and insistent.
I sat up, my heart thumping harder as I recognized the sound. My handheld magnetic field scanner sat on the desk, its screen flashing red.
Something was wrong.
I scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the tangled sheets as I lurched to the desk and grabbed the scanner from its base.
“This is impossible,” I whispered. The screen showed readings I’d never seen before, the red zones higher than any I’d recorded since I arrived in Bear Cove.
Flipping open my laptop, I pulled up the link to the thermal imaging cameras I’d installed in the forest. For a second, the feed was nothing but static. Then it cleared.
My breath caught. Several large, red shapes moved through the trees.
No, dozens of red shapes appeared on the screen, the masses too large to be moose or even grizzlies. They were massive…and they were heading straight to the bed and breakfast.
My hands shook as I clicked from feed to feed. Images appeared one after the other, all showing the same thing: enormous masses too big to be animals. Thermal patterns that could only be living organisms. Bipedal movement.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Then a soft knock came at my door.
“Charlotte?” Beck called through the wood.
I crossed the room and opened the door.
“I need you to come outside,” Beck said, his expression serious. “Right now, sweetheart.”
“My equipment,” I gasped, my head spinning.
His face didn’t change as he extended his hand. “I know, and I promise it’s all right. Come with me. There’s something you need to see.”
Something in his voice made the tingling awareness return to my spine. He didn’t sound worried or concerned. He sounded resigned…and expectant.
I took his hand. His palm was warm and solid against mine as he led me downstairs. In the foyer, he bent and helped me slide my feet into my boots. Silver glinted in his hair as he tied my laces while I stood docile, my heart trying to beat from my chest.
“Whatever you see,” he said as he straightened, “remember that I’ll never let anything hurt you. Okay?”
I swallowed against a dry throat. “Beck, what—?”
“Just trust me, Charlotte,” he rasped. “Please.”
Silence shivered between us. I nodded.
He opened the door and led me onto the porch. The parking lot was full of bears. At least three dozen Kodiaks stood on two legs, their gazes trained on the porch.
On me.
Their fur ranged from honey-brown to almost black, and they were huge, each one at least a thousand pounds. Maybe more.
But bears didn’t act like this. They were mostly solitary except for mothers with young cubs. Even then, they didn’t stand in formation. They didn’t coordinate or even cooperate in these kinds of numbers.
“What the hell?” I breathed.
Beck tightened his grip on my hand. “Keep watching.”
One of the bears stepped forward—just stepped like it strolled down a sidewalk. It was larger than the others, its fur a rich honey-brown. It took a few more steps forward. Then it stopped, and light shimmered around it.
My gasp echoed across the porch. Beck kept a tight grip on my hand.
The light built, the blue sharp and glowing as it spread around the bear like an aura.
Possible explanations flitted through my head. Bioluminescence? Some kind of electromagnetic phenomenon generated by—?
The bear began to change.
Fur receded. Limbs rearranged, shrinking and sliding in ways that should have been impossible.
Crack, crack, crack.
I jumped, a cry breaking from my throat.
“It’s okay,” Beck murmured, squeezing my fingers.
The light built as the bear’s massive form contorted. Flesh swirled over its fur. For one horrifying moment, muscle and tendon glistened thick and red.
Another cry stuck in my throat as the light dimmed, and a man stood where the bear had been a second before.
Tall and blond, he was built like a Viking warrior. His long hair was loose around his shoulders. Ice-blue eyes gleamed in a handsome face. He was completely nude, but his lack of clothing didn’t appear to bother him.
My knees loosened, but I stayed on my feet, my hand sweating in Beck’s.
“Alpha,” the man said in a deep voice. “You called us.”
He stared at…Beck.
My heart pounded painfully. Behind the man, the other bears began to change. Blue light shimmered around each massive form. Bodies shifted. Fur receded. Within seconds, the parking lot was full of naked men, all of them watching me with varying degrees of curiosity.
Beck released my hand and faced me, his fingers going to the buttons of his shirt.
“What are you…?” I started. But I knew.
He stripped off his shirt and unfastened his jeans.
Blood rushed in my ears. I darted a look at the porch railing in case I needed something to hold me upright.
Beck toed off his boots and shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs.
His body was rugged perfection, his shoulders and arms corded with muscle.
Black-and-silver chest hair covered his pecs and formed a narrow trail down his rippling stomach.
Shiny, rope-like scars crisscrossed his torso, indicating he’d survived some kind of violence.
But I couldn’t linger on it, not when his manhood swung heavy against his thigh. It was as big as the rest of him, his thick shaft covered in plump veins from base to tip. Large testicles nestled underneath, and a patch of black hair covered his groin.
Blue light erupted around him, the glow so bright that I flung up a hand to shield my eyes. But I didn’t keep it there for long. I had to see.
Beck’s transformation was swift, his body shifting and contorting in swirls of fur and flesh. Wiry brown hair burst from his skin. His face elongated into a massive muzzle.
Within seconds, a towering bear stood before me, his shadow stretching across the porch.
Beck’s fur was a rich brown so dark it was almost black.
Here and there, silver tufts peeked from his rippling coat.
His nose was a deep, velvety looking black, and his ears were as rounded and fluffy as a teddy bear’s.
But his eyes held my attention. Dark and round, they gleamed with intelligence.
The bear moved forward. Between one step and the next, light blazed, stinging my eyes. I squeezed them shut and turned my head against the glare. When I recovered, Beck stood nude and wholly human once more.
Gaze never leaving mine, he grabbed his discarded clothes from the porch floor and dressed quickly. He left his shirt unbuttoned as he took my hand.
“These are my brothers,” he said quietly, his voice deeper than usual.
My thoughts spun like I’d stumbled onto a carnival ride. Bears. They were bears. They could shift into humans. Magic was real. Biology as I knew it was incomplete. Everything I’d studied, everything I’d believed was wrong.
“Breathe,” Beck said, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. “Deep breaths, Charlotte.”
My vision swam. My mouth hung open, and I realized I was on the verge of hyperventilating. Nodding, I squeezed Beck’s hand as I forced myself to take slower breaths.
“Good girl,” Beck murmured.
The words were like a caress between my thighs. Apparently, not even being confronted with the supernatural was enough to erase my attraction to him.
“You’re bears,” I said, my voice hoarse in my ears. “You’re a bear.” Maybe if I said it enough times, I could make myself believe it.
“Bear shifters,” he said.
“Bear shifters,” I repeated weakly.
“Yes.”
I looked at the men assembled in the parking lot, each one huge and ripped with muscle, before turning back to Beck. “This is…the most extraordinary phenomenon I’ve ever encountered.”
Beck’s lips twitched. “That’s your reaction? Scientific curiosity?”
“You’re all bears? The whole town?”
“Except for our mates,” Beck said. “There are about sixty of us, give or take.”
Sixty individuals. It was enough for a breeding population. But how had they managed to avoid detection? Were the legends I’d read about true? Questions exploded in my mind.
“How is this possible?” I asked. “Is it magic or biology or some combination? Can you interbreed with actual bears?”
A horrified look crossed Beck’s face. “No—”
“What triggers the shift? How long have you existed?” The questions tumbled faster. I needed a notepad. “What’s your evolutionary history? Are there other species? Other shifters?”
“Charlotte,” Beck said, putting his free hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we should go inside and sit down. We can talk about what you’ve just seen.”
But I couldn’t stop. My entire worldview had splintered and reformed in the span of minutes. Everything I thought I knew about biology, evolution, and species classification was all wrong.
Or, at least, incomplete.
“I need my equipment,” I said, thinking of the tests I’d run first. “I need to document this. Take blood samples and tissue biopsies. Do you have any idea what this means for evolutionary biology? For our understanding of genetics—?”
“No,” Beck said sharply. He tightened his grip on my shoulder. “Charlotte, you can’t document this.”
My heart sank. “Why not?”
“Our existence is a secret. It has to stay that way.” His silver eyes held mine. “If the world knew about us, we’d be hunted. Studied and dissected. At best, we’d spend our lives in labs. At worst, we’d be killed. You’re a scientist. Surely, you know this.”
Arguments sprang to my lips. Then his words sank in, and reality crashed over me. I turned to the men who still watched us, each one different.
They weren’t just fascinating research subjects.
They were people. Beck had called them his brothers.
If I published a paper about them, headlines would circulate within hours.
The world’s media would descend on Bear Cove, everyone from Bigfoot hunters to morning show anchors vying for a look at the men who turned into bears.
And it wouldn’t stop there. Beck was right.
I turned back to him. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Can you promise that?” Beck asked, his eyes unwavering. “Can you walk away from the discovery of the century and never speak of it?”
My career was on the line. I’d spent the last of my childhood and my entire adult life building toward this moment. All the grants I’d applied for and papers I’d written swam before my eyes.
Dr. Henry’s face appeared, too. What would he say when I told him I was abandoning the project? I’d lose other fieldwork opportunities. Possibly, I’d delay earning my PhD. The degree might slip through my fingers altogether.
Beck’s silver eyes were steady, his palm warm in mine. In the parking lot, sixty men stood naked and vulnerable. They’d revealed themselves, and now they waited, banking on me keeping my word.
“Yes,” I said. “I promise to keep your secret.”
Beck held my stare a moment longer. Then he squeezed my hand and turned back to the others. Without a word, they faced the forest and moved off, some shifting into bears in bursts of blue light.
The blond lingered, and he smiled at me, the expression warming his eyes. “Welcome to Bear Cove, Doc.”
I blinked. “I’m not a doctor yet.”
His smile widened. “You will be.” He nodded to Beck, then turned and strode toward the trees. Halfway to the forest, he became a golden bear again, his paws kicking up snow as he melted into the evergreens.
Within seconds, the parking lot was empty, nothing but trampled snow to indicate the bears had been there at all.
Beck and I stood hand-in-hand on the porch, the afternoon sunlight spilling up the steps.
“I should probably sit down,” I said.
Beck chuckled as he slid an arm around my waist. “Yeah. You probably should.”