Accidentally Mated To The Bear Shifter Next Door (Monsters Of Mosswood #2)

1. ONE

ONE

Vera

I stare at the text from my dad, chewing an already blunt nail while I consider how to respond.

Dad: Are you coming home for Christmas? You know your mom would love to see you.

My teeth snag skin and I wince, pulling my hand away from my mouth to see a spot of blood where I hit the quick.

Biting my nails is a bad habit, but at least I don’t drink or smoke or anything like that.

Though there’s plenty of opportunity living on campus.

That stuff just never interested me much.

I push the phone away from me into the center of the mattress, not ready to answer yet.

I avoided going home for Thanksgiving, making the excuse that I had to work to save up to cover my costs while I’m on internship this January. I won’t be able to work for at least a month, and even though I’m looking forward to it like it’s my birthday, it’s going to hurt my bank account.

Truth is, though, I’ve been saving all year because I’m boring and responsible like that. So I could afford to take a break over Christmas. Besides, I know if I asked them, Mom and Dad would cover my rent for a couple weeks.

I won’t ask though.

The phone vibrates and I groan, turning it over to discover another message, this one from my older brother, Riley.

Riley: Hey, bunny, you better be coming home for Christmas. Dad won’t say anything, but he thinks Mom’s symptoms are getting worse.

Shit.

I remember the day Mom was diagnosed. I was eleven.

I’d never heard of multiple sclerosis before, and I was in that awkward preteen stage when none of your limbs act like they belong to you and you suddenly realise how awkward it is to have hands because where are you supposed to put them and why don’t your feet look like they belong to you anymore?

I’d listened silently as my dad explained enough about it to me and Riley that I understood Mom was never going to get better. I didn’t wait for him to say anymore. I’d gotten up and run out of the room, and Riley and Dad knew better than to try and stop me.

Running while you’re crying isn’t a smart idea. I banged into more than one doorframe on my way out of the house. I didn’t care though. In a way I’d relished the pain. I’d wanted to hurt. Everything was going to hurt forever now that Mom was sick anyway.

I wasn’t ready to face any of them. I knew Dad was going to tell me to be brave and I wanted to, but I didn’t think I could.

So I climbed the fence into the neighbor’s yard and made my way up into the big ash tree, hoping to crawl into a dark corner of the old treehouse there and lick my wounds where nobody could see me.

Only I wasn’t alone. As soon as I scrambled over the ledge and onto the wooden platform I froze, blinking into the dim space at another, much bigger figure tucked into the corner with his long arms wrapped around legs which were hugged up to his chest.

Bastien looked up at me and hastily wiped the back of his hand across his face. “Vera! What are you doing here?”

My cheeks heated as bad as a radiator with a broken thermostat, just like they’d been doing for the three months before that—every time my brother’s best friend talked to me.

It was like this weird reaction I had no control over, and it made me even more ridiculously conscious of every part of my awkward preteen body.

I’d always been close with Bastien. For as long as I could remember, I’d insisted on tagging along with him and Riley whenever I could force them to slow down long enough.

It was Bastien who had taught me to ride my bike without my training wheels when Riley refused, so I could follow them up to the top of Broadbent Street and ride down the hill squealing at the top of my lungs.

It was Bastien who picked me up and carried me home the day after that when I’d fallen off and grazed both my knees and hands so badly I was covered in bandages for weeks.

Being a bear shifter had always meant Bastien was bigger than the other kids at school, but he was a gentle giant.

He was never the type to start fights, though it was usually him ending them when Riley stirred up trouble.

He mastered his shift early, shooting up at thirteen into a solid boy with enormous hands and feet that seemed too big for his already adult-sized body and kind brown eyes and a shy smile that I convinced myself was reserved just for me and Riley.

I’d never seen him throw a punch. I’d never even really heard him raise his voice. I’d sure as hell never seen him cry before.

“What happened?” I whispered in the dark, crawling closer, my own pain forgotten for a moment.

Bastien shrugged. “It’s nothing. You shouldn’t be out here after dark, Vera. Do your parents know you’re here?”

At that reminder, my eyes welled up all over again and the tears escaped to flow down my overheated cheeks. I brushed them away angrily. “No. I’m not a kid anymore, Bas. I’m pretty sure my childhood is over now.” Yeah, I was dramatic. I was eleven.

His brow lifted and he loosened his grip on his knees to pat the floor next to him. “Oh really? Sounds like you need to talk about it. Come here.”

Glowing with pleasure and trying my very best not to show it, I crawled even closer until I was sitting right beside him. I could feel his heat all along the left side of my body, even though we weren’t technically touching.

I tucked my knees up to my chest to mirror his position. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Which was the worst lie anyone had ever told ever. I didn’t even believe it when I said it, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t either, but he let it ride for a minute.

I would have told him anything—except my deepest, darkest secret—right then just so he’d let me stay there a little longer with him.

That deepest, darkest secret was going with me to the grave, though, because there was no way I was about to let him know about the huge, embarrassing crush I’d been developing recently.

On him. The completely out of my reach friend of my older brother.

Right then it was in the full-blown sweats and finger tingles stage and felt like the elephant crammed in the treehouse with us.

Bastien let out a low huff of air. “I guess we can sit here together for a while not talking about it then if you like.”

True to his word, he was silent for a long time.

After a while I looked around to find him watching me, which made me blush even harder. Lucky it was so dark. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” The words came out in a rush, and I tried not to sink into the floor in embarrassment while waiting for him to respond.

“Alright,” he said softly.

“You first, though.”

He shrugged again, and I expected him to deflect. I was surprised when his uneven gravelly voice said, “Mom and Dad are splitting up.”

“Oh, Bas!” I desperately wanted to hug him or reach out and hold his hand, but I wasn’t sure if that was allowed.

He glanced away. “It’s fine. They haven’t been happy for a while now. They fight all the time, and even I can see how this could be better for everyone.” Somehow his words sounded hollow. Flat, like he was trying too hard, which only doubled my outrage.

“But that’s horrible!”

He sighed. “Yeah. Feels pretty terrible right now.”

His sadness reached out to clutch me by the heart, and I wished there was something I could do to make him feel better. So I did the only thing I could think of and blurted out what Dad had just told me. “Mom’s sick.”

I would have said more, but just then my voice cracked like someone shattered a mirror, and all the tears from before came flooding back.

A strong, warm arm wrapped around my shoulders and Bastien pulled me against his side, which felt amazing even though my entire chest hurt, and that was so confusing it slowed the tears a bit.

“She’s never going to get better, Bas,” I hiccupped. “Not ever. There’s no cure.”

“What is it?”

“Multiple um… multiple something. I’m not really sure. But it’s bad.”

He hugged me tighter, and we just sat there in the dark for a while longer.

Then Riley’s voice broke through the quiet moment. “Vera! Are you out there? Dad says you have to come in now or you’re grounded for a week.”

Bastien started, pulling his arm away. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I drag myself reluctantly back to the present, to the unanswered messages staring back at me accusingly from my phone. With a sigh I begin to type.

Vera: First of all, I told you not to call me that stupid nickname.

Vera: Secondly duh. I’ll be—I don’t even finish typing the second message when Riley responds.

Riley: Fight me. No seriously. I might even let you win if it means you’re home for Christmas. I don’t think I can deal with them alone.

I stop typing and delete what I was going to say, touched at the unexpected honesty from my emotionally stunted brother.

Vera: that bad huh?

Riley: The mood swings are bad, and Dad’s not coping. He pretends he’s fine, and that might be the worst part.

I bite hard on the side of my cheek to keep back the tears threatening to fall.

Suddenly I feel like a complete idiot for not going home for Thanksgiving.

I should have taken every day I could get instead of acting like a baby and hiding in my dorm.

No matter how bad things seem, they could always get worse.

Vera: I’ll be there.

I’m debating whether to add a hug emoji or if Riley will throw up in his mouth if I’m too affectionate, when another message pops up.

Riley: I do have one piece of good news. Bas bought his parents’ old place, and he’s moving back in. Just like old times.

I read through the message about a hundred times, staring at each letter in order while I try to sort through my jumble of feelings.

I haven’t seen Bas since the night that shall never again be mentioned right before I left for college.

If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been avoiding being with him and Riley in the same room in case either of them gets a whiff of the way my scent changes when I’m near Bas.

That’s the trouble with shifters. You can’t hide anything.

I figured a little time and space would help me get over him, but from the suspicious way my heart rate has climbed since I got Riley’s message, I’d say it hasn’t worked yet.

Everything I type back sounds weird and phony.

I finally settle on something lame and throw my phone away from me, lying back against the pillow with a huff.

Why’d I have to go and develop an obsession with my brother’s best friend who has only ever looked at me like a little sister? Why am I such a loser?

Maybe I should go out tonight and have yet another meaningless one-night stand before I book my ticket home.

My college roommate, Kate, is already home for the holidays, so it would be the perfect opportunity.

Trouble is, I can’t seem to muster up the will.

It never works anyway. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, my mind always returns to Bastien’s warm, kind eyes and his generous mouth every time I’m close, and that’s usually a deal breaker for other guys, even if I manage not to moan his name out loud like an idiot.

It’s fine, I’ve never been under any illusions that I’ll find my fated mate and have the kind of relationship my parents have. The kind people dream about finding. I might have been born into a family of shifters, but I didn’t inherit the magic.

No, the best chance I’ve got is a nice human who won’t ask too many questions about my sightly odd family. So the sooner I stop dreaming about what might have been, the better.