Chapter 20 #3
A few weeks ago, I hadn’t even so much as considered looking at another woman, let alone kissing one. But now? Now I would be full of shit if I denied that part of me wanted to get on that bed, invite Jeannie into my arms, and see if the two of us were ready for… anything.
That part, however, was smaller and more foolhardy than the rest of me. Or perhaps braver. Either way, I knew that was a bridge I was close to being able to cross, but I just wasn’t there yet.
“I’ll take the couch,” I said quickly.
“Are you sure? It’s a queen-sized bed, so there’s room for the both of us without us being too much in each other’s face.”
“No, it’s okay. I tend to toss and turn a lot, so it would be easier if I took the couch.”
“Well, I’m more than a foot shorter than you, so shouldn’t it be me on the couch?”
I swore, if one of us said “couch” one more time, it was going to stop sounding like a word.
“Look, I know my accent may be weak, but I’m still a Southern gentleman, so the lady gets the couch.”
“And I’m a Southern lady, and I say I don’t need to be coddled when it would be the most sensible option given my height.”
It appeared we were having our first argument. It probably should have been frustrating, but I found myself grinning despite myself.
“Why do I get the feeling that this is kind of when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”
“Oh, it’s cute that you think we’re the same level of stubborn,” Jeannie said with a smile. “I’ll have you know—”
Apparently, it was my fate to never learn the knowledge she was about to drop on me, because a strange noise came from outside, and all my senses were on high alert.
“What? What’s wrong?” Jeannie asked.
I wasn’t sure yet, so I held a finger to my lips and took a step toward the dining area. The aroma of the previously warm meal still lingered and mixed with the scent of burning firewood.
How... How long had that food been sitting there, waiting for us? It had been covered, yes, but that didn’t mean that those tasty scents hadn’t been filling the entire area for hours while we’ve been hiking.
The sound happened again, this time closer, and that was exactly when it hit me. I knew, without a single iota of uncertainty, that whatever I was hearing was most definitely, one hundred percent, a bear. An actual bear, and not a shifter.
Shit.
It was the dead of winter, so it was incredibly unusual for bears to be gallivanting about out of hibernation.
All the food must have lured it out. Our entire land smelled thickly of grizzly territory, so the native black bears of North and South Carolina naturally avoided our territory for the most part.
Our territory also smelled of humans, which were arguably even a greater threat than us grizzlies.
So if that was the case, why was the interloper’s scent getting stronger?
“What is it?” Jeannie asked again, her voice lowered to a whisper. There was nothing I hated more in action or horror movies than when someone kept yelling about what was going on when a dangerous situation was happening.
“I need you to go to the bedroom,” I answered softly, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
Technically, I wasn’t sure there was any danger yet.
The only facts of the situation were that there was a strange bear outside and we were inside.
Still, the alpha bear within me, the one primed to protect and defend, was fully roused and ready to come to the surface the moment I needed him.
We were less two sides of the same coin—as I’d often heard wolf shifters say—and more like he was a bigger, darker part of me that only wanted to be disturbed when needed.
Otherwise, he was content to linger, to observe, stuffing himself on happy moments and memories, fattening himself up metaphorically for the dire times.
“Is there—”
A bellow sounded from the small clearing just outside the cabin, startling a shriek out of Jeannie, and then suddenly, something slammed against the front door.
Now that the bear was practically knocking like he wanted to visit for Sunday dinner, I could hear and smell everything that I needed to know.
The bear outside was a juvenile entering its first rut. Incredibly late, considering that usually happened between May and July, but clearly he was a late bloomer.
Strangely enough, a wave of gratitude washed over me that it wasn’t rabies.
The cases were rising in America, largely due to the spread of raccoon rabies specifically.
While rabies wasn’t as dangerous to shifters as it was to humans, it did affect us enough that I knew I didn’t want to play stupid games with it.
Another bang kind of ruined that relief. The door was about to be knocked off its rusty hinges. Clearly, the bear was desperate for the food.
Technically, I wasn’t in any danger. I could take on a black bear with one hand tied behind my grizzly back. But Jeannie’s fear was overpowering my senses.
Protect. Must protect. Our den. Our mate.
Protect.
PROTECT!
There was yet another bang, then the door flew open, slamming into the opposite wall.
It was almost like a scene out of some horror movie—a massive, shadowy shape stepped forward through the blackness of the night only to stand to its full height just in front of the doorway, too tall to come in without crouching a bit.
And suddenly, our potentially romantic night was interrupted by a literal wild bear about to break into our cabin. We had no weapons, and certainly no way to run.
Flight was out of the picture, and freeze wasn’t an option. There really was only one choice left.
I let myself fall into my animal’s embrace, and my first shift since Zara’s death burst through me.
Shifting was different for everyone. Some people described it as a dance between their two sides.
Others said it was a body-ripping, bone-breaking, trial by fire they had to get through.
I had even heard some say it was like falling asleep and waking up in a dream world. But mine wasn’t anything like that.
It was like fire and water both coursing through me at the same time, pain and power bonding together in something natural but intense.
My body rapidly expanded outward, muscle laying on muscle as fur burst from my skin.
I had no doubt that it looked quite horrific, but there wasn’t really space in my mind to worry about that.
No, my mind was merging with my bear’s, and all he was concerned with was making sure Jeannie was safe. That was all that mattered to him.
“Oh my god!” Jeannie screeched from behind me, but I was already barreling forward on all fours, much too tall to stand on my hind legs in the small cabin.
The juvenile let out an undignified sound as I tackled him, knocking him right out of the doorway and into the clearing, colliding with one of the picnic tables and snapping off part of the bench.
I’d thought that would be enough to knock it out of the siren-song of our very tasty food, but that was the thing about teenagers of every species.
They were really fucking stupid.
The black bear got to its feet. It was about two-and-half feet shorter than me and easily five hundred pounds, but in my bear form, I had it beat. It actually charged me like that was going to do something.
The human side of me wanted to laugh at the foolish bravado.
I was in absolutely no danger from the bear, and neither was Jeannie since she was inside, but my bear side didn’t care in the slightest. To it, there was an interloper in front of him, a threat, and that threat wasn’t getting the message.
I raised one of my large paws, and I was surprised by how good it felt to be in my larger, hairier body. It was like I’d forgotten what it was like to be a bear. A travesty, really. Why had I let myself go so long without shifting?
I didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. My paw connected, and the young bear went backward, ass over tea-kettle, until he ended up slumped over against a tree, groaning miserably.
I could press the advantage and rip out his throat, but I didn’t need to. Instead I opened my maw wide and roared so the entire world would know that this was my territory.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if there were a few folks at the main cabin who heard me, no doubt thinking I was reconnecting with my wild side.
But the juvenile in front of me certainly heard, because he struggled to his feet, yelping all the while, before running off into the tree line away from our land.
Good.
I let out a few very grizzly huffs before turning back to the house. I was so satisfied with how things had been going that I half forgot I had just shifted in front of a human. And not just any human, but one who had no idea that our people even existed.
Oops.
Sure enough, there Jeannie was, standing in the doorway and staring at me, her face ashen.
Shit. I’d fucked up.