Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
They parked behind a barn on a dead-end road in the middle of a cornfield. There weren’t any houses for miles in all directions.
“Todays the day,” Siren said, checking her Glock.
Reed had been dreading those words since their first desensitization session. They both knew his bear still needed training. And after days of directionless driving and sex out of a XXX film, she’d finally decided it was time.
“We’ll start with single shots,” she said. “Your job is to stay human.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice weaker than he wanted it to be.
“Don’t focus on the sound. Focus on me. Stay connected to something outside your head.”
He nodded and tried to unclench his jaw. They climbed out of the van and positioned themselves in the clearing behind the barn.
“Ready?”
She shot before he could reply. The crack split the air, and Reed’s whole body jerked like he’d taken a bullet. His bear surged, clawing to the surface, desperate to face the threat. Fur rippled down his arms. His vision sharpened as his eyes tried to shift.
But he held it back.
“Good.” Siren said. “Again.”
She fired.
Another surge. Another battle to hold his form. And he won.
She fired again without warning. And again. Each shot was a war, but Reed held firm. After ten shots, Siren lowered the weapon.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Like I’m going to throw up.”
“You’re doing good. Let’s keep going.”
She changed the shot pattern to two shots in quick succession. She called it a double tap, the way professionals fire when they mean to kill.
The rapid sound hit differently. It triggered something deeper in his nervous system. A memory from the ambush. The bullets coming from everywhere.
His bear roared inside him. His hands started to shift, claws pushing through his fingertips.
“Reed.” Siren’s voice cut through the noise in his head. “Stay with me.”
He pulled back, forcing his claws to retract. “Good,” she said. “You’re close.”
Then she raised the Glock and emptied the magazine. One shot after another in rapid succession. The sounds overlapping, echoing off the barn, filling the air with chaos.
Reed’s vision blurred and his bear took over.
The shift happened before he could stop it. His bones cracked and his muscles tore. One moment he was a man, the next he was a grizzly bear. The bear’s instincts screamed that there was a threat.
But the threat was Siren. His mate. Even in the uncontrolled haze, he knew he couldn’t hurt her.
She just stood there staring at him, her sharp blue eyes pinning him in place.
“Come back, Reed,” she commanded.
The bear fought him. He wanted to rage. But Reed pushed it down and pulled the human back out. When he was fully human again, he found himself on his hands and knees in the grass. Naked and shaking. His clothes shredded around him.
Siren draped a blanket over his shoulders and sat beside him in the grass. She gave him a bottle of water to drink while he recovered.
“You’re treating the bear like an enemy,” she said. “Like it’s something to suppress.”
“It is.”
“No. That’s not how the shift works. I’ve been in some highly traumatic situations during my service and time with Dom.
I’ve never suppressed my wolf.” She picked up a stalk of grass and twirled it between her fingers.
“Your inner animal isn’t separate from you.
It is you. You can’t win a war against yourself. ”
“What am I supposed to do? I’m trying to keep it contained.”
She dropped the grass and looked at him with her bright blue eyes. “When you hear the gunfire, your bear wants to protect you. That’s natural. It’s trying to help you.”
“It’s trying to fuck up my life.”
“It’s trying to keep you alive the only way it knows how.
” She paused. “The problem isn’t the bear’s response.
The problem is that you’re resisting it so hard that you create a power struggle.
When you’re fighting yourself, you can’t think.
You can’t choose. The bear wins because you’re too busy pushing it down to work with it effectively. ”
Reed considered that. It went against everything he’d believed about his issue since that first day at the park when he was thirteen. He believed his bear was dangerous when it was provoked.
“If I don’t fight it, what should I do instead?”
“You need to accept who you are. When the bear rises, don’t push it down.
Let it be there. Acknowledge it. You should think.
‘Yes, I feel danger. Yes, my bear wants to protect me.’ And then redirect it.
‘No, I don’t need to shift. I can handle this in human form.
’ Or, if you do choose to shift, it will be on your own terms, and you can maintain control of your actions. ”
“I’m not sure how to do that,” he said.
“You have to remember that you and your inner bear are partners. Not enemies. The bear has wisdom. It knows things the human mind doesn’t. But you get to decide when and how you use that wisdom.” She pressed her finger to his chest.
Reed thought about all the times he’d shifted without meaning to. Every single time, he’d been fighting it. Resisting the shift with everything he had.
“What’s the difference between accepting and surrendering?” he asked.
“That’s what practice is for.” She stood, offering him a hand. “Let’s try again.”
Siren reloaded her Glock and walked about twenty feet from where Reed was standing. He held the blanket around his shoulders, feeling ridiculous and exposed.
“This time, don’t fight your bear.”
She raised the weapon and fired two shots. His bear surged, but Reed let it come. His hands tingled. The shift wanted to happen, but he didn’t fight it. He held his ground while Siren fired off another double tap. The surge passed through him like a wave, and he remained human.
“Good,” Siren said. “Ready for the final test?”
He nodded. She raised the Glock, took a breath, and emptied the magazine. The noise was overwhelming. Shot after shot, filling the air with sound and fury. The smell of cordite and the memory of chaos.
Reed’s bear roared inside him. He listened to the inner beast. Acknowledged it’s fear. He chose to stay human. The shift pressed at him. His hands started to change, and he let it come. Just a little. Then he pulled it back in. Gently. Not fighting it. Just redirecting.
When the last gunshot faded, he was still standing. Still human. Claws gone, vision clear.
Siren lowered her weapon.
“That’s it,” she said, pride in her voice. “You’ve got it. You’re ready.”
Reed was exhausted down to the bones. But underneath it he felt something he’d been searching for from his earliest memory. Control.
For so long, he’d felt like his bear was a curse. A monster living inside his skin that could destroy his life at any moment.
Now, it felt like something he could work with. A true partnership with his inner animal. He could feel the bear inside him, deep in his chest. Finally relaxed enough to rest.