Chapter 10
Elliott is a beast.
Elliott let his bear run far on Sunday night, not that he could’ve stopped him if he’d tried.
It was a miracle he got away from Pella’s Pond without diving in to rescue Fern, without biting her and starting a bond.
After she fell in, Beck saw something in Fitz’s posture, and with a harsh burst of alpha energy, commanded him to leave.
It was for the best.
He went east into the mountains, then lumbered north a ways, before spending the night in one of his favorite craggy dens near the source of the Wrentham River.
Far enough from town that he couldn’t pick up on her scent, his bear relaxed a smidge and bedded down. Trapped behind closed eyelids, Elliott stayed up late thinking.
He’d tried to approach the pond day with an open mind. If Fern was comfortable with shifting, he’d tell her about mate bonds and them being potential mates. If she was put out, problem solved. He’d let the bond fade and go back to doing what he did best: hardly anything.
Bravely, he’d invited her to smoke before swimming, expecting the big conversation to happen later, during lunch. Life-altering information went down best with a meal. But when Fern bashed his lip and the timeline changed, his carefully curated nerves frayed.
Of course she’d been enamored by their magic, and of course he’d panicked, no longer certain he wanted to tell her about their potential bond.
She was pretty great, and they had a few things in common, but she was so fucking put together in her little white sundress with those long, shiny nails and her hair twisted up on her head.
She ran a salon—or she was about to. That was some composed shit, a level of polish he could never hope to achieve.
What had he done with his life? Nothing, aside from accepting the business his grandfather gave him. What had Fern done? Started at the bottom and climbed her way to the fucking top. He was leagues below her. What would she expect from him? Could he even give it?
Monday, Elliott awoke with his bear, and after a slow stretch on cool stone, he emerged into the afternoon sunshine and started down the mountain.
While his grizzly sniffed incessantly—seeking berries and jasmine, no doubt—Elliott considered his pesky potential bond.
He didn’t need to be rash about things, but he had no choice except to get to know Fern better.
His bear liked her too much to let him ignore the bond until it went away.
What he’d do is grace it with a whisper of attention, see how she was as a friend, and if they were completely and utterly incompatible—as he suspected—his bear would have no choice but to move on.
If they were compatible… Fitz would suck it up and tell her about the potential bond.
By the time he lumbered down the steep slope where the upper valley gave way to the lower, he had a new plan he could stick to, and his bear seemed happy. With a purr, his animal scented the air again, and Elliott realized what had him in such a blissed-out state: Fern was around.
“All right, buddy. I smell her too. When we get to the bottom, we’re going to shift back, so I can go find her.”
Pausing to rub against a tree, his bear grunted happily.
“Thank you,” Elliott said, taking it as a good sign when they got on their way.
His grizzly padded along the rocky ridgeline and down to the spongy, pine-coated basin of the gorge, sniffing and panting as he made his way toward the river.
“Okay, here’s good. Let’s change back.”
His animal paid no regard to Elliott’s request… or the next one… or the next one. Fitz had thanked that fucker far too soon.
Each of his increasingly panicked pleas was ignored—or graced with a snort—as his bear continually scented Fern, her delicious smell growing stronger with each moment.
Elliott eyed the world frantically through his grizzly’s eyes as they splashed into the Wrentham River and swam across its deepest point to emerge on the forested island in the middle.
Raspberries, blackberries, jasmine, and vanilla had his grizzly drooling as he crossed to the western shore—close to home.
“Yes, great idea. Let’s go home and shift. I’ll clean up, we’ll go find Fern. Can we do that, buddy?”
Stopping abruptly, his bear plopped down in the brush beside the Potter’s Branch and chuffed. A splash caught his attention, and he spied a kayak gliding his way. There she was, coming up Elliott’s narrow, slow-flowing branch of the river.
“Shift back. Now.”
Motherfucker, his grizzly was behaving just like yesterday. Why was she down here alone? What was she even doing, going against the flow? Fern passed, and his bear stood, rustling the rushes. Luckily, his noise was drowned out by the splashing of her paddle, or she’d easily have spotted him.
The muscles in her upper back flexed as she paddled along, the hot pink bow of her swimsuit and her two braided pigtails swaying side to side.
Deciding she’d gone too far for comfort, his bear started forward, stalking her up the bank and salivating heavily as he wove between shrubs and ducked under branches.
Shit, shit, shit.
Elliott knew what the fucker wanted to do. He could feel it in his beast’s soft, insistent growl, his rising heart rate. He was desperate to bite her, to mark her, to start the bonding process.
When she stopped, he stopped too, hiding—half-assed—behind a boulder.
His furry ears must have been poking out over the top.
Fern lingered at a spot about fifty yards from where his house stood, hidden by trees.
Spiraling her paddle in the water, she slowly turned the bow of her boat toward his hiding spot and started his way.
While his bear breathed deeply, filling his lungs with all-consuming contentment, Elliott panicked. Had she spotted him? Was she being coy? Impossible. She hadn’t even glanced up.
With a small grunt, she shoved her paddle straight down into the cobbled river bottom and poled the kayak to shore.
“Don’t move a muscle, you asshole. Change back or stay hidden,” Elliott pleaded.
He didn’t get his human body back, but at least his bear stayed put while Fern climbed out of the kayak and splashed to the dry rocks.
Turning her back, she pulled her boat up further, then hugged herself. Her pointy pink nails gripped her tank top as she stripped it off, revealing her matching hot pink bikini beneath. Yesterday’s suit was purple. Yesterday’s nails were, too.
Her shorts followed, and Elliott’s bear breathed deeply, happy to find her scent heavy on the warm air. She put the sweet cedar notes of summer to shame.
Purring low and steady, his bear blinked slowly, and Elliott shouted at him to keep his damn eyes open.
Today’s suit provided far more coverage than yesterday’s thong, but this one was sexier.
The way the back panel only offered a peek of her cheeks made him imagine hooking a finger beneath the puckered fabric to slide it aside.
He wanted to lick her all over. Wanted to squeeze her and smell her, put his mouth on her, and feel those nails digging into his back as he trapped her beneath him.
When Fern waded in and dipped low in the current, only to rise with her bottoms clinging to her crack, his bear gave up the fight and charged.
“Fuck you! Stop, stop, stop!” Elliot screamed as his grizzly crashed through the shrubbery, beelining for her.
She spun toward him and gasped, eyes round.
“Shift back! Shift, you asshole!”
Gingerly, she backed away, hands out for protection.
“If you don’t fucking shift right this second, I swear to fuck I will never let you out again.”
“Elliott?” she exhaled his name, soft and wispy. Her nipples puckered beneath her swimsuit, and her pulse picked up, ticking in her neck.
She was terrified, and it was his fault. He was such a loser—him and his bear. “If you won’t shift, do something to show her you’re safe. Be fucking submissive, you cock.”
Finally listening—somewhat—his grizzly dropped and rolled onto his back, soaking himself in the process. At least he showed her his belly.
A nervous laugh bubbled from Fern’s mouth as she planted her hands on her hips.
Rising slowly to his feet, Elliott’s bear approached, ears twitching and his drooling at a minimum—for the moment.
“Can I pet you?” she asked, tentatively lifting a hand.
Without so much as blinking, he showed her his side, then shuffled in to rub against her… with far too much force. Fern splashed into the creek, and panic flashed in her eyes before she leapt up, trying to laugh it off. “Oh my god, I said pet you, not you pet me. Ew, you smell. Stop that.”
“Give me back my body!” Elliott yelled at his bear, who backed away a bit but refused to cede control.
Opening his jaw playfully—but Fern didn’t know that—he stepped toward her again, wanting to engage.
“Shift back, Elliott! You’re scaring me.” Though she tried to moderate her voice, fear tightened it.
“Give me control, you stupid motherfucker!”
Nope. Clapping his jaws closed, his grizzly moved in, shoving his nose into her neck and inhaling. As Fern froze from the contact, a low rumble rose from his bear.
“Shift the fuck back. Come on, dude.”
When he dropped his muzzle, Elliott hoped his beast was about to back away, maybe even retreat fully. But, no. He stuck his nose underwater and brought it up between her legs, lifting her so he could smell her in the air.
If that wasn’t the most embarrassing shit his bear had ever done. Holy fuck.
Fern grasped for purchase, clinging to his big furry head and shrieking, “Oh my god, Elliott. This better fucking be you!”
He dropped her back down and shoved against her chest with his huge noggin. Though she squealed and swatted at him, it worked. Fern stumbled back until the water was no deeper than her knees.
“Elliott. Shift back, right now. I need to talk to you.”
What did she need to talk to him about? His bear certainly didn’t care, not now that he had her where he wanted her. Unfortunately, the beast was still acting like an absolute fool, huffing and shoving his nose between her legs. Surely he wouldn’t try to bite her there... right?
“Could you do me a favor and change back, dude?” Elliott tried a new tactic. He didn’t hate his current position, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he couldn’t imagine Fern was into it.
“Elliott Fitzpatrick. If you’re not going to change back, I’m just going to talk to you. Okay?”
His grizzly grunted.
“Do bears even understand English? Oh well, I hope you’re listening in there.” She tapped the top of his skull as he panted against her thigh. “Do you actually have a crush on me even though you said it was a mistake to kiss me? Because I’d like to know the truth.”
When his bear lifted his head, Elliott caught a brief glimpse of vulnerability and freckles spread across her sun-tanned face. Then his grizzly’s massive tongue lolled out, and he licked her nipple.
“Oh my god, Elliott!” she shouted, giving his head a shove, before she went right back to scratching him between the ears.
Dropping his snout, his bear happily enjoyed her enchanting scent while staring at her toes, half-buried in silt and stones beneath the ripples.
With a soft sigh, Fern said, “Listen, I should’ve told you this on our walk to Northrop House, but I’m actually afraid of dating these days anyway.
I’m just trying to figure myself out first. So, I get that you don’t want a relationship.
That’s... that’s fine. I just thought I’d tell you in case, um— Oh my god, this is fucking awkward.
I’m just going to say it. I figured I’d tell you that, in case you want to do a friends with benefits thing.
If you want—” When she cut herself off, Elliott heard her teeth snap closed.
She didn’t want a fucking relationship. He was putting himself under all that stress for no reason. A sour sense of relief flooded him while nothing but pure, unadulterated determination took hold of his bear.
The beast really said, “let’s fuck,” and shoved his nose between her legs again, nuzzling against her, not just sniffing.
“NOT LIKE THAT!” Fern screamed. “Jesus Christ! That’s an offer for Elliott, not you, bear. Shift back for me, please. I need you to shift back for me.”
He licked her from knee to hip, and she laughed, though she shoved him away the whole time. His grizzly finally got the message—sort of—and sat back on his haunches, panting at her like a playful puppy.
Panic seized Elliott as he recognized the feelings stirring in his animal. He was positive she needed him. And the best way to ensure that was by biting her, marking her, starting the bond. She needed him, not a human, she needed a—
“Mate,” his bear rumbled in a low tone, the purr in his chest strong enough to send little ripples out over the surface of the water.
Helpless against his beast’s whims, Elliott’s human heart stalled out, and panic struck him dumb when his bear rose up on his hind legs, hitting his full height and shadowing her beneath him.