Chapter Twelve – Jay
Jay followed Henry away from the ranch at a steady pace, their silence surprisingly comfortable. The crunch of gravel underfoot faded as they moved onto softer ground, the scent of pine and earth intensifying with each step. A breeze whispered through the towering trees, stirring the shadows that played across their path.
Are you sure we’re ready for this? his bear asked, a note of unease threading through its voice.
Jay exhaled, sliding his hands into his pockets. I don’t know, he admitted. But we’ve been running long enough. If we want a future with Alison and Tessa, we need to face up to the past.
You’re right, his bear murmured, and there was no doubt in either of their minds that they wanted that future—something stable and real with Alison and her daughter. The kind of future they both deserve.
The only question was whether Jay deserved them.
They pushed deeper into the tree line, where the air cooled and the golden rays of evening sunlight shifted into soft, dappled shadows. Above them, the mountains loomed tall, bathed in the last glow of day. Jay felt the tension tightening in his chest, an echo of something he couldn’t remember.
Henry shot him a quick glance. “You ready?”
Jay rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tightness there. “Guess we’ll find out,” he replied, voice low.
Then, in a fluid motion, they shifted. For a heartbeat, the world blinked out—sound, sight, and scent all collapsing into a rush of electric energy. A heartbeat later, it returned, sharper and more vivid than before as Jay landed on all fours.
His bear bristled with a fierce sense of power and belonging. This was his home. These were his mountains. His bear knew this to be true. It didn’t matter if he could remember specific places. He simply knew. In the same way he knew that night followed day. Spring followed winter.
Beside him, Henry’s bear gave a deep huff and shook out his thick coat before lifting his head to the wind. They exchanged a look—no words needed—and then launched into a run.
They moved across the mountainside, the wind tugging at their fur, as the last of the daylight faded from the sky. The ground blurred beneath Jay’s paws, and a thrill raced through him. He focused on the stretch of land ahead, the rise of the mountains in the distance, and the scent of damp earth kicking up beneath them.
Does this feel familiar? Running with Henry, I mean? Jay asked his bear, weaving between the dark trunks of pines.
His bear remained silent at first, as if searching for a memory in the back of their mind. There is something…
Before Jay could press for more, Henry bumped him sharply, nipping at his neck before surging forward in a burst of speed. Jay’s bear reacted instantly, adrenaline spiking as he dug in, heart hammering with the thrill of the chase.
They tore across the rugged slope, and a deep satisfaction welled in Jay’s bear’s chest. This primal dance with his brother, testing each other, challenging each other. Yes, his bear roared in agreement. This does feel familiar.
Jay’s bear pushed himself harder, chest burning with exertion, mind reeling with a flicker of memory. We’ve done this a thousand times, his bear murmured.
Jay felt a spark of hope. Perhaps not every moment has gone. Perhaps some things remain, even if we can’t fully grasp them.
Eventually, the mountain slope evened out, dropping into a wide valley. Henry slowed first. Jay pulled up alongside him, panting, steam curling from their muzzles in the cooling air. The sky above was streaked with the final traces of daylight, the valley below hushed under the approach of twilight.
Henry’s bear turned to look at Jay, an indecipherable light in his eyes. Jay wasn’t sure if it held some hidden meaning. Then a heavy sense of familiarity pulled at his gut.
We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Jay’s bear asked.
Jay’s gaze skimmed across the valley, the hush of the evening settling around them. Maybe this is where it happened.
Where we fell. Where everything went wrong. A ripple of unease snaked through him as Henry padded forward carefully, scanning the terrain. Jay followed, each step weighted with dread and the echo of something lost.
The closer they got to the edge of the deep ravine, the heavier Jay’s chest felt. A swirl of emotion churned in his gut. This is it, he thought. This is where I lost my memory.
He felt Henry’s presence beside him, steady but uncertain as well. The wind picked up, blowing cold against their fur. Jay’s bear tensed, as though the ghosts of the past lingered right at the cliff’s edge.
They shifted again. One moment, there were two bears standing side by side in the gathering dusk. The next, the crackle of energy sparked, and they stood on human legs.
Henry straightened, rolling his shoulders, waiting patiently. But for what?
Jay swallowed, glancing around. The ravine below was dark, its sides steep and unforgiving.
A person could do serious damage if someone fell down there, Jay’s bear said.
“This is it?” Jay murmured, stepping forward carefully. “Do you know why we were here?”
Henry nodded in the direction of a distant tree line. “Dougray lives about a mile that way. Maybe you’d heard he moved back, and you came to see him?”
“Dougray lives nearby?” Jay asked. Had his brother always lived here? Why could he not remember?
“Dougray moved in with Tammy, his mate,” Henry replied.
“His mate. I remember Mom saying something about it…I have missed so much, haven’t I?” Jay asked.
“You have,” Henry agreed. “But you are here now and that’s what counts.”
“You know it’s not that simple,” Jay replied. “Without my memories, I’m not the same person you all want me to be.”
“You’re alive, Jay. You are home,” Henry said. “That’s what matters the most.”
Jay fell silent, not knowing what to say to his brother. But he appreciated Henry’s attempt to make him feel better.
He’s a good older brother, Jay’s bear said.
“So I was here for a reason, but I have no idea what that reason was.” Frustration bubbled up inside him.
Henry mulled it over. “Maybe you were here to see Gavin, the local vet. Tammy is his niece.”
“The local vet? But why? My bear wasn’t hurt.” He sighed heavily. “Were there any other animal tracks around here? I mean is there a chance I was bringing an injured animal to Gavin’s?”
“No, at least not that we can tell,” Henry said. “But then the whole area was trampled on by the rescue team.”
“None of it makes sense,” he muttered. “I wish I could just…remember.”
Henry sighed. “I wish I could help more, man.”
Jay took another tentative step closer to the edge, where the earth fell away into shadows. Something about this spot tugged at him, a powerful wave of déjà vu hitting so hard his vision swam. The ground seemed to tilt under his feet, and he stumbled, his breath catching in his throat.
In a flash, Henry was at his side, gripping his arm. “Easy,” he whispered. “Steady.”
Jay forced himself to step back, adrenaline spiking as he replayed the sense of falling. Of wind roaring in his ears, the rush of ground coming up too fast, then nothing. Cold emptiness. Damn it, he thought and braced a hand on Henry’s shoulder for balance.
“Why did I leave Bear Creek?” Jay asked at last, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.
Henry’s expression darkened, his features taking on a somber cast. “I know what happened,” he said quietly. “But I don’t know if telling you outright is the right thing to do. Sometimes the mind forgets for a reason.”
Jay dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “I need to know,” he said, looking at the jagged lip of the ravine. “Don’t I?”
Henry looked at him for a long moment, the hush of dusk pressing in around them. “What if there’s a reason you blotted it out?” he asked gently. “What if remembering does more harm than good?”
Jay wanted to argue that not knowing was worse. But fear churned inside him and an ugly voice whispered, maybe it is better not to know. He swallowed hard, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of his thoughts.
Then it came out, almost unbidden. “Alison is my mate.”
Henry didn’t look shocked. And that told Jay everything—his family already knew.
Jay’s mouth was dry. “Is it that obvious?”
Henry nodded, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “The two of you practically vibrate when you’re in the same room.”
Jay let out a sharp breath, burying his face in his hands for a second. Relief, anxiety, longing, they all battled for dominance. “So you knew. Great.”
Henry stepped forward, squeezing Jay’s shoulder in that reassuring, older brother way. “I’m happy for you,” he said simply. “I know what it’s like to find the one you’re destined for. And the fact that Alison has Tessa…it’s a blessing, Jay. Maybe that’s where you should put your focus.”
Jay swallowed past the lump in his throat. He knew Henry was right, at least in part. The idea of a ready-made family was something Jay had probably imagined for himself once. Because wasn’t that what every shifter wanted?
But right now his future seemed as uncertain as his past. Where did he fit into any of this? His family. Alison and Tessa. Where exactly was his place in this world, in their lives?
But how could he commit to that when his past was a gaping unknown?
“It won’t bring my memories back,” he said, voice low. “It won’t tell me why I was on this cliff, or why I left in the first place. Or what kind of a man I was.”
“Now that I can help you with.” Henry’s face softened. “You were a good man.”
“You would say that, brother.”
“Oh, don’t you believe it? As the oldest I get to tell it like it is,” Henry said. “And so here is what I think. Sometimes the reasons we run aren’t as important as we think. Sometimes you just have to trust that who you are now is enough.”
Jay’s bear rumbled softly in agreement, but Jay pressed his lips into a thin line, scanning the dark chasm below him. Who am I, though?
“Just give yourself time,” Henry repeated gently. “Let your heart do the leading. Everything else will catch up.”
Jay nodded, though uncertainty still gnawed at him. He glanced up at the sky. The stars were beginning to shimmer in the violet twilight. The wind picked up, tugging at his hair, chilling his skin, but it sparked a strange sense of life in his veins.
He turned to Henry again. “I just… I’m worried if I don’t remember, I won’t be the man they deserve.”
Henry’s gaze was kind and full of understanding. “You already are, Jay. Memory or not.”
Raw gratitude welled in Jay’s chest, and he swallowed hard. He might not have all the pieces yet, but one thing was clear, time would bring the rest…or it wouldn’t.
Whatever happened, he’d figure out a way forward. With his family. With Tessa. With Alison.
Trust in fate, his bear whispered.
Jay’s throat tightened. What if fate abandoned him before, leaving him like a blank slate with a restless heart? And if so, would it betray him again?
The wind whispered through the mountains, but it held no answers. As he stood side by side with Henry, gazing into the darkness below, Jay decided he’d face whatever truth lay buried in his past. Because the future he wanted—a life with Alison and Tessa—was worth every risk.
He inhaled, letting the thought stretch out before him. Then he turned away from the cliff. “Let’s head back,” he murmured, meeting Henry’s eyes. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
Relief washed over Henry’s face as he nodded. Together, they moved away from the edge, away from the haunting shadows of what once was, toward home.
And in Jay’s heart, a seed of hope took root, small but fiercely alive, waiting for the day it would bloom. Bloom into a life filled with love and laughter.