3. Graham
Three
Graham
The second my paws hit the forest floor, everything gets quieter.
Better.
The scents sharpen.
Pine.
Moss.
Wildflowers.
A deer passed through here an hour ago.
Raccoons sometime before dawn.
Two rabbits.
One fox.
This is home. This is where I make sense.
My fur ripples in the breeze as I lope deeper beneath the trees.
It’s not black like my fellow Black Bear Shifters. It’s cinnamon-colored—red like my hair.
But when I’m in my fur, I’m not self-conscious. Not even a little bit. My Bear is strong and sure.
Everything that plagues me in my skin feels so far away when I’m out for a run.
The music. The downloads. The interviews.
None of that matters here.
Out here, I'm just a Bear.
And my Bear is perfectly content in the woods he grew up roaming…
Well, he is for approximately four minutes.
Then he freezes.
That is, I freeze.
I sniff.
There’s someone out here.
A woman.
I stop.
Sure enough...
I smell her.
She’s closer now. And she’s human.
I sniff again.
Vanilla.
Coffee.
Old books.
Lavender.
She smells good, and my Bear?
He finds that interesting.
I peek through the copse of trees I’m half hidden behind. She’s too far for details, but I can see her.
Her shape.
Her curves.
Fuck me—this woman is hot.
She’s not hard and brittle like Stephanie and her click.
This woman is soft.
Round in all the right places.
Thick in exactly the right spots.
She's walking the narrow trail with absolutely no awareness of her surroundings.
Her hands are tucked into the pockets of this short-sleeved cardigan she’s wearing—oblivious to me and the danger lurking behind her.
She’s not paying attention, and that makes me mad—for her not at her.
But watching her looking up through the trees instead of where she's going?
All I can think is... pretty.
Very pretty.
Long blonde hair catches the last rays of the setting sun.
Wavy.
Glossy.
She smiles to herself as she walks.
What's she smiling about?
The Bear leans forward. He sucks in a deep breath.
And I feel a shiver of awareness ripple through me.
Mine.
I almost trip over my own paws.
Absolutely not.
My beast growls deep and low.
Mate.
No fucking way.
Mate.
But I hold him back. Because no. We're not doing this.
I am not doing this.
Mate.
I sigh.
Great.
Just great.
Thirty-five years without so much as a hint from the Fates, and now?
Now some human wanders into my woods like she owns the place, completely oblivious to the havoc she is wreaking on me—and what? I’m just supposed to go belly up?
My Bear is about to claw me a new asshole when another scent cuts through the air.
Hunger.
Disease.
My head snaps toward the ridge.
It’s a fox. A wild one, not a Shifter.
But it’s wrong.
Something's very wrong with it.
My Bear stills.
The animal staggers from the brush. Foam hangs from its jaws.
Its eyes are cloudy. Its movements are jerky.
Rabies?
Maybe.
Shit.
The woman still hasn't noticed.
The fox lowers its head.
Stalking.
Come on, Honey. Now would be an excellent time to pay attention.
I think and huff in frustration. If we were mated we might have a mind link—a telepathic connection that would allow us to communicate.
But we’re not. And we don’t.
She keeps walking.
Completely unaware.
My heart is stuttering in in my chest.
The fox lunges.
And I don't think.
I just move.
Branches explode around me as I charge downhill.
The woman gasps just as I plant myself between her and the diseased predator.
I rear onto my hind legs.
Eight feet of angry Black Bear.
Next, I roar.
The forest shakes with it.
The fox skids to a stop.
The sick animal growls—too far gone to know better.
And it’s definitely the wrong move.
I slam my front paws into the ground.
Roar again.
Louder.
Meaner.
The fox finally decides living is preferable to dying.
But right now I just watch as it bolts into the underbrush.
Gone.
Good.
I'll have to tell the Alpha. If rabies has reached Clan territory, every family needs to know.
I drop back onto all fours.
Turn.
And finally... I look at her.
Really look at her.
She's pressed against a massive oak.
Eyes wide.
Breathing hard.
One trembling hand covers her mouth.
She's terrified.
Not of the fox.
Of me.
Damn it.
Easy.
Take it easy.
My Bear ignores me completely.
Mate.
He pads forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She whispers the tiniest little prayer.
“Oh God. Bear. You are a big bear. P-Please don't eat me.”
My heart melts.
Oh, Honey.
The Bear reaches her.
She smells incredible.
Vanilla.
Espresso.
Cinnamon.
Magic.
Hope.
Home.
I lower my enormous head and sniff her hair.
Mine.
Then her cheek.
Mine.
She doesn't run. But she's shaking so hard I think her knees might give out.
“Whoa. Okay.”
Her voice trembles.
“Um, good Bear?”
My Beast absolutely loses his mind.
Good Bear.
That's it.
We're keeping her.
You are so beautiful.
I wish I could tell her that. Instead, I stand there, sniffing and sighing like a giant lovesick puppy.
Then, miraculously, she lowers her guard. Her wide eyes take me in.
“You are such a big boy,” she murmurs.
Honey, you have no idea.
“Such a good boy.”
Fuck. Me.
I should leave. Now. But my Bear digs his claws into the ground.
She cocks her head to the side, reaches out with tiny, soft hands.
And I lose my fucking mind.
Instinct takes over.
Before my human brain can stop him, my Bear sniffs her palm. Then he opens his mouth.
And bites.
Not to hurt.
But she yelps.
Because this bite breaks skin.
It’s just hard enough to leave our mark.
The moment my teeth graze the soft skin of her hand the matebond snaps into place. Power surges through me. And with that power?
Awareness.
Heat.
Longing.
Joy.
And believe it or not—love.
Love so overwhelming, my fucking knees almost buckle.
The woman squeaks in shock or pain or maybe both. I leap backward.
Shit.
Oh shit.
What have I done?
Inside, my human mind is panicking. But outside? My Bear is ridiculously pleased with himself.
Mate. Claimed. Mine.
Fuck.
My human side wants to bury himself under the nearest pine tree.
Shit.
The word comes out as a distinctly Bear-like huff.
I just claimed my fated mate.
In Bear form.
Without introducing myself.
Without saying hello.
Without even buying the poor woman dinner.
My mother is going to kill me.