Chapter 4 It Was A Bear #2
I lunge forward, meeting the bear's charge with my own. We collide in a tangle of claws and teeth, her momentum driving me backward. Pain lances through my shoulder where her claws tear flesh, but the wound is already closing as we separate and circle.
She rises again, towering over me, but height means nothing.
I’m easily as heavy as she is and speed is everything in this fight.
I dart beneath her guard, teeth finding purchase in the soft flesh of her throat.
Blood. Hot. Life. She roars, massive paws battering my sides as she tries to dislodge me.
But I hold on, instinct driving me to clamp down harder, to shake my head and tear deeper. Her struggles weaken. One final, desperate swipe opens a gash across my flank before she collapses, body shuddering as life drains away.
Victory-surge pounds through veins. Territory defended. Threat eliminated. But now hunger. Fresh kill. Good meat. I begin to feed, tearing through hide to reach the rich flesh beneath.
From the edge of my awareness, I sense Cormac-friend-pack moving closer, his scent sharp with worry-fear-caution. Not fear of me—concern for others. His magick ripples through the forest, creating a bubble of don't-look-here around us. Protection. Good.
Time blurs as I feed, strength returning with each mouthful of warm meat. The pain of my wounds fades as flesh knits back together. Eventually, satiation replaces hunger. I lift my head, newfound clarity allowing my human thoughts to filter through.
That's when I smell them. Humans. Multiple. Male. Guns.
Hunters.
I push my wolf’s control back more when I read the alarm in Cormac's scent. His magick flares brighter, straining to maintain the concealment glamour, but I can taste his exhaustion. He's pushing too far, using too much energy. The spell flickers like a candle in a strong wind.
My wolf bristles, hackles rising at the thought of being seen. Of being hunted. The urge to attack, to eliminate this new threat, rises like a tide. But the man I am beneath the beast is able to push back again.
I can’t kill humans.
And I need to protect Cormac.
We need to get back to the ranch, to continue my search.
To find her.
The thought of my mate—still out there, still waiting—gives me the anchor I need. I pull back from the wolf's rage, fighting my way through layers of instinct and bloodlust. The shift reverses—bones cracking, muscles contorting, fur receding into skin.
Pain lances through every cell as I force the change, but I embrace it, use it to focus my scattered thoughts. When it ends, I'm on hands and knees in the dirt, naked and covered in blood, but human again. Myself again.
"Fen!" Cormac's urgent whisper breaks through the lingering haze. "We need to move. Now!"
I look up, taking in his strained expression, the sweat beading on his forehead as he struggles to maintain the concealment spell. Beyond him, through gaps in the trees, I catch glimpses of movement—three or four figures in hunting gear, working their way toward us.
He extends a hand to help me up. "I can't hold it much longer."
I stagger to my feet, legs still trembling from the shift. "How close is the river?"
"Half mile, maybe less." He yanks his pack open, pulling out spare clothes. "Put these sweats on. Quick."
I drag the clothes on, not bothering with underwear, just pants and a shirt that will get us to the river without me being completely exposed. The fabric sticks to the blood still coating my skin, but there's no time to clean up.
"Over there," a voice calls from further up the path. "Over by that clearing!"
"Your glamour?" I ask Cormac, already knowing the answer from his drained appearance.
He shakes his head. "It’s down. We run for it. Now."
We abandon the path, crashing through underbrush in the most direct route to the river. Branches whip against my face, thorns tear at my borrowed clothes, but I barely feel the stings. Behind us, shouts of alarm rise as the hunters discover the bear carcass.
"What the hell did this?"
"Fuck’n hell, something tore its throat out!"
"And ate some of it—look at this!"
Their voices fade as we put distance between us, but not fast enough. Cormac's breathing grows labored beside me, his stamina pushed to its limits by the magickal exhaustion.
"I see water!" I point ahead where sunlight glints off a winding ribbon of river.
"Rings," Cormac gasps. "Ready your ring."
We burst from the treeline onto a narrow strip of rocky shore. The river curves gently here, deep enough for our purpose. I pull the silver ring from my finger, Cormac doing the same beside me.
"There! Over there!" A shout from the forest behind us. "Who are you?" They've spotted us.
I surge forward at the challenge, claws erupting from my fingertips, teeth sharpening to points against my lips. The change ripples beneath my skin, bones already beginning to crack and realign. The urge to turn and fight roars through my blood.
"Fen, no!" Cormac hisses, grabbing my arm. His eyes widen at the sight of my half-transformed face. "Hold it together—just ten more seconds!"
I dig my claws into my own thigh, using pain to anchor myself. The hunters' footsteps thunder closer, heartbeats hammering in my ears. A growl builds in my chest—low, deadly, impossible to suppress.
"Now!" Cormac drops his ring into the water. I follow suit, the silver bands disappearing beneath the surface with barely a ripple.
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
"You there!" The voices draw closer. "Hey! You killed that bear! Where’s the giant beast of a dog you had?"
The water erupts as a slim hand breaks the surface, followed by the face of two sirens, their eyes shimmering with otherworldly light. They each extend an arm, and we grab hold without hesitation.
The last thing I see before she pulls us under is the stunned faces of the hunters breaking through the treeline, guns raised, mouths open in shock. Then water closes over my head, and the world blurs around us.
We're moving impossibly fast through bright liquid light that isn’t actually wet, the siren's grip on my hand is firm and sure as she guides me through the world pathways only she can navigate.
Within moments we burst upward into light and fresh air. The scent of the lake water on the ranch surrounds me, but nothing sticks. I walk out of the lake as dry as I went in.
"What happened?" Maven's voice cuts through my gasping deep breaths. She stands over us, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised.
I meet her gaze, acutely aware of the bear's blood crusting on my face and neck. The copper tang of it clogs my nostrils. I must look like the monster I try so hard not to be—a predator fresh from a kill, reeking of death. Something primal and bestial masquerading in human form.
Her expression doesn't waver, though. No fear, just annoyed concern, as if I'm a troublesome child who's tracked mud across her clean floors rather than a barely-contained beast who just devoured half a bear and nearly revealed our existence to human hunters.
Cormac marches out of the water behind me, his chest heaving. "Hunters," he manages between breaths. "They saw... something. Maybe Fen. Definitely the wolf eating the bear. And probably Fen changing back."
Maven's expression darkens. "How many?"
"Three, maybe four."
"But not the sirens?" She turns to two women who rescued us, who are floating in the shallows, their iridescent skin glinting in the light.
The siren who carried me through shakes her head. "We didn’t come up far. It’s unlikely we were seen."
Maven's shoulders relax fractionally. "Good. We'll monitor the situation, make sure it doesn't escalate." She gestures toward the path leading up to the main house. "Let's get back. Dugall arrived with Ares an hour ago, and Wraith and Boaz are expected before midnight."
We follow Maven up the winding path from the lake, the tension in my muscles easing slightly with each step toward safety.
The ranch sprawls ahead of us, its stone walls and glass windows gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
Despite everything, a sense of relief washes over me at the sight.
Not home, exactly, but close enough for now.
We crest the final hill, and I spot a familiar figure waiting by the main entrance.
Ares stands with his arms crossed. Our gazes lock across the distance, and despite everything—the failed search, the bear, the near-disaster with the hunters—I feel something tight in my chest ease at the sight of one of my brother knights.
He waits until we reach the porch. "Rough day?"
I bark a laugh that's half-growl. "You could say that."
"Let me guess," he continues, moving closer, "no mate, low ambrosia, and something triggered your wolf."
"A bear this time," I confirm. "And hunters who may have seen more than they should have."
Ares’ expression darkens. "That makes two of us with complications, then." He glances at Maven. "We need to talk. All of us."
"After you two get cleaned up," Maven says firmly. "And after Fen drinks some ambrosia, his fangs are still out."
She's right. Despite the shift back, my wolf is still agitated by the chase, the near-exposure, the lingering scent of blood..
As if reading my thoughts, Ares produces a flask from inside his jacket. "Here."
I accept it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swallow. The honey-thick liquid burns pleasantly going down, pushing the wolf back further into dormancy. For now.
"Thanks." I hand the flask back, already feeling steadier.
"Don't mention it." He pockets the flask.
I nod, following Maven and Ares as we enter the house. Four cities, no mate, and now a possible exposure incident. Not the progress I'd hoped for.
But somewhere out there, my mate is waiting. I can feel it. And despite today's setbacks, I will find her.
I know it.