My Fated Bigfoot Hero (Fablewood Monster Mates #3)

1. Mia

CHAPTER 1

MIA

" H ear the call of the wild..." Those words echo in my foggy brain as consciousness creeps back. Why am I thinking about?—

Oh.

OH.

My eyes snap open and I bolt upright, immediately regretting the sudden movement as my head spins. I'm sitting on cold stone in what definitely isn't the abandoned university building where I was chasing my cat last night. Unless university buildings commonly come with twenty-foot ceilings and ancient wall carvings and frescos of— Wait. What are those? Monsters?

Not a good sign.

"This is fine," I whisper to myself, voice shaky. "Everything is totally fine. You're just having one of those vivid dreams where you can feel texture and smell musty stone and—" I pinch myself hard. "Ow! Okay, not a dream. Cool. Cool, cool, cool."

Usually talking to myself helps calm me down.

Right now, it’s not working.

The events of last night flood back: Following Mary Poppins into that old building with Olivia, reading that strange inscription on the wall, then everything going white. After that, just darkness and that terrifying howl, or yowl... or whatever it was that had me all curled up in a ball. Somehow, I am suddenly here. But where is here?

Now morning light streams through gaps in the ceiling, illuminating what appears to be some kind of temple. The walls are covered in intricate carvings of creatures that look like they stepped straight out of my childhood fantasy books – if those books had been written by someone with a much more active imagination than I remembered.

"Okay, think rationally, Mia. There has to be a logical explanation. Maybe I accidentally wandered onto a movie set? Or some kind of elaborate historical reenactment? With really good special effects? Or maybe someone slipped something into my chai latte at work yesterday..." I press my palms against my temples, trying to slow my racing thoughts. "Though I'm pretty sure even the best hallucinogens don't come with surround-sound echo effects and- Wait, what exactly are they doing in that fresco?

Just relax, Mia. One thing at a time. Deep breaths.

Channel your inner yoga instructor. If only you hadn’t quit that after two classes because meditation made you too twitchy.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice bouncing back at me. "Olivia? Anyone? Marco?" The echo replies with mocking 'anyone-one-one' instead of the 'Polo' I'm hoping for. "Right, that had I’m sure an actual answer wouldn’t be just as bad.

I stand up slowly, my collection of bangles jingling in the silence. The sound is jarring in this ancient space, like my little piece of normalcy is offending the temple's dignity. My colorful flower printed sundress probably isn't helping either. At least I dressed appropriately for interdimensional travel – though maybe I should have worn something more Indiana Jones and less Woodstock.

A sound drifts in from somewhere outside – high-pitched and musical, like children playing. Or... not children? Squirrels? No. Bears? Definitely not. The rational part of my brain says it must be some kind of animals, but there's something about those sounds...

I follow the morning light toward what looks like a partially collapsed section of wall, trying very hard not to think about what else might be out there besides whatever's making those maybe-children noises. The stone is surprisingly warm under my hands as I climb, my rainbow painted toenails finding purchase in ancient grooves.

"Mary Poppins?" I whisper-call, because lost in some mysterious temple or not, I still have to find my missing cat. "Superpoppilicious? Here kitty..."

That's when I see them through the gap in the wall – small, furry figures darting between the trees. They're about kid-sized but definitely not kids, unless kids have suddenly gotten a lot hairier since my brief stint as a student teacher. One of my many ‘brief stints.’

My heart nearly stops. Either I've finally cracked, or...

"No way," I breathe, excitement temporarily overwhelming my fear. "Baby bigfoots?"

I scramble through the gap, scraping my knee in the process. "Ow!”

Note to self: ancient temples are kinda dangerous.

But I barely notice the sting as I take in my surroundings. The temple sits in a clearing surrounded by towering trees that look like they've been here since, well, since whatever time period I've apparently stumbled into.

There it is again – that sound. Like children playing, but not quite. I creep closer to the tree line, my heart racing, trying to peer in amongst the denser foliage. Movement catches my eye and I freeze.

"Oh. My. God."

Three small, furry figures are chasing each other between the trees. The little munchkins move with an adorable loping gait that's definitely not human. I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from squealing.

"Baby bigfoots! Or is it bigfeet?" I whisper to myself. "This is incredible! I'm like Jane Goodall, but way cooler because she only got boring old chimps!"

The smallest one spots me and lets out a startled "Eep!" before diving behind a tree. But instead of running away, it peeks back around the trunk, dark eyes wide with curiosity.

"Hi there!" I wave, trying to channel my inner preschool teacher. "I promise I'm super friendly! Just your average rainbow-wearing human who fell through... whatever that was back there."

The little bigfoot – bigfootling? – ducks back behind the tree, then peeks out again. Before I know it, we're playing an impromptu game of peek-a-boo.

"You are absolutely the cutest thing I've ever seen," I coo. "And I used to volunteer at a kitten rescue!"

Speaking of which... "Mary Poppins?" I call out, momentarily distracted once again. "Are you out here somewhere, Superpoppilicious?"

The other two young bigfoots have crept closer, clearly intrigued. One of them makes a chittering sound that sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

"Oh sure, laugh at the lost human," I say, but I'm grinning. Though honestly? This beats my actual life by about a million percent. Let's see: dead-end barista job? Check. Failed attempt at becoming a teacher because I couldn't stick to the curriculum? Check. Living in my best friend's spare room because I can't decide what I want to do with my life? Triple check!

And let's not forget my stellar romantic track record. Three relationships ended because I was 'too much' - too loud, too spontaneous, too me . The last guy “Brad,” actually said, and I quote, 'Dating you is like trying to contain a hurricane in a mason jar.' Which, okay, points for creativity on that metaphor, but still. Ouch. I should have known not to date a guy named “Brad.” I sigh, absently twisting my bracelet. "Even my cat abandoned me. Or did I abandon her by getting into this mess?”

I take a few careful steps toward my new furry friends. This is amazing! I mean, sure, I probably should be freaking out more, but when life hands you baby bigfoots, you don't question it. You just?—

A deep, rumbling howl cuts through the air, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I know that howl. I heard it last night. The little ones freeze, then scatter into the underbrush.

"Wait!" I call after them. "Don't go! I have so many questions! Like, do you guys actually have big feet, or is that just propaganda? And, um, who does your fur conditioning because it looks super silky! It’s natural oils or something, right?"

But they're gone, leaving me alone in the strange forest. Well, hopefully alone. That howl definitely didn't sound like it came from anything I want to meet.

"Right," I mutter, backing toward the temple. "Maybe I should work on my field research techniques. Jane Goodall probably didn't lead with hair care questions."

I glance around the clearing, reality starting to sink in. I'm in some kind of magical forest, apparently, with no idea how I got here or how to get back. I should probably be more worried about that.

"Deep breaths Mia, keep taking deep breaths." I whisper, fingers twisting my bangles. Talking to myself still isn’t helping. “There's still a chance this is just some crazy dream...”

But even as I say it, I can feel my heart racing with something besides fear. Something unexpected. Because honestly? For the first time in forever, I feel... what’s the word?

Alive. Like really alive.

It’s crazy but it’s like maybe I've finally stumbled into somewhere I could belong.

"Besides," I say to the empty clearing, "how many people can say they've played peek-a-boo with baby bigfoots?”

That's going straight on my resume. Under 'Special Skills. ’

If I ever even need a resume again.

Another howl echoes through the trees, closer this time.

Though maybe I should work on survival skills first. Like finding somewhere less exposed. I eye the temple.

I guess it’s back into the mysterious ancient temple for you Mia.

I sure hope the temple doesn’t mind.

As I climb back through the gap, I could swear I hear another giggle from the trees. Somehow, I don't think this is the last I'll see of my furry little friends.

I just hope whatever made that howl isn't their incredibly protective, incredibly large parent.

Right, a big mean angry daddy bigfoot is just what I don’t need.