Darrell barely had time to think before his own instincts took over. A millisecond after the small body of the fluffy, striped cat had shimmered in the air, abruptly turning into the body of a gorgeous and very much naked woman, Darrell himself had shifted back to human.

Just in time, he managed to catch Carrie.

The connection between them was instantaneous. Even as he staggered half a step backwards, energy sizzled through him where skin touched skin.

It was overwhelming. It was as if her skin was radiating gentle light and warmth against his own. Although he’d never seen her before, it felt like he’d known her forever. Like she was something that had always been missing. And now that he held her in his arms, something inside his chest suddenly felt light and free.

Her scent was that of wild forest honey and sweet clover blossoms. She smelled like sunlight and warmth and beneath it all, the seductive depth of spice.

It hit him with the force of a blow to his stomach. Even as he tightened his arms around her, careful not to drop her, his bear made a rumbling sound of utter contentment.

We’ve found her. We’ve found our mate, he said. Now we'll no longer be alone.

Stunned, Darrell looked down into her face. She had beautiful, chin-length curls of a reddish brown that gleamed in the light, a little darker than the stripes of her cat. Her face was perfectly heart-shaped, with red lips and long, dark lashes that now looked strangely vulnerable, resting against the soft skin beneath her eyes.

And her eyelids remained closed as he held her. Carrie was unconscious.

Unconscious... and naked.

Darrell swallowed, suddenly feeling very much out of his depth. Surely that wasn’t how these things were supposed to go. And if she suddenly woke up now, how was he going to explain that he wasn’t a creepy stalker?

She’s a shifter. She’s our mate. She’ll know when she wakes up, just like we did, his bear pointed out.

Maybe, Darrell said, unconvinced.

It just didn’t feel right. Not like this, not when she didn’t even know him yet.

When she wakes up, we’ll tell her that we want to have lots of beautiful cubs, and everything will be all right, his bear said gleefully.

Yeah, like that will go over well, Darrell thought back with a snort. Maybe we’ll start with our name instead. And maybe we’ll find some clothes first.

Humans. Why so complicated, his bear huffed.

Suddenly a boom of thunder resounded. When Darrell looked up, he saw that the sky had darkened. Clouds were moving in faster than he had anticipated.

The wind had picked up. The air smelled of ozone. And then there was a flash of lighting, right above the woods behind him.

“Shit. We won’t make it to the cabin in time,” he said out loud.

He’d begun to run at the first crash of thunder, Carrie held securely in his arms.

The cabin by the lake would have blankets, some basic supplies, and most importantly, a flare gun. It was meant for emergencies, as reception out here in the woods was pretty much non-existent.

If he fired it, Chris—or maybe some clan mate taking a stroll through the forest—would be here in an hour. Or two, depending on the strength of the oncoming storm.

Even if they got drenched on the way to the cabin, it couldn't be helped. There wasn’t any shelter nearby that he knew of—and he had to get word back to his clan. Someone needed to inform Chris, or he’d assume that two people had vanished.

Once more a jagged flash of lightning cut through the sky. At the same time, it was as if a dam had broken. The clouds suddenly released the water they’d been carrying, and rain started to pour down. Heavy drops hit Darrell’s skin. Within seconds, he was utterly wet, water dripping down his body.

Thunder was booming almost continuously now. Before him, the lake spread out. He was running as fast as he could. Maybe another fifteen minutes now to the cabin...

Out of the blue, his bear growled a sharp warning. Just as Darrell came to a sliding stop, the unmistakable form of a wolf crested a hill to their right.

The wolf threw back his head, and then he howled.

Shit, shit, shit.

Darrell could take on a werewolf any day, especially here on his home turf—but right now, his mate was naked and unconscious in his arms.

Back, his bear growled. Go back. If we cut through the valley to the west—

Darrell had already turned, hastily retracing his steps as rain kept pouring down on them.

Anger was burning bright within him at this werewolf who’d threatened his mate. His bear wanted to challenge him to a fight, grab his neck between his teeth and shake him until the werewolf wouldn’t ever dare to come after Carrie again.

But this was neither the time nor the place for it. His mate had to be his priority now.

And first and foremost, he had to get Carrie to safety.

Darrell ran as fast as he could, the warm weight of his mate in his arms keeping all of his senses focused on the danger at their back.

He knew the forest, although he preferred the deeper woods to the south to this rocky area by the lake. He’d explored here once or twice, mostly to leave his own scent on the area to satisfy his bear’s need to stake his claim.

But ever since their clan had settled here, the area had been peaceful. With the local sheriff a bear shifter as well, there wasn’t much that had disturbed the small town.

But an unconscious cat shifter, and a werewolf hot on her trail—something wasn’t right in Linden Creek. The werewolf would soon find out that an entire clan of protective bears made a formidable enemy no wolf could stand against.

Darrell ran through a gorge that had opened to the west before him. It curved a little to the right, but Darrell remembered the place. If he could outrace the wolf, the gorge would open up into a little valley just past an inlet that led to the lake. There was no cabin there to offer safety—but there should be a small boat, tied a rickety wooden pier. It was a spot close to the clan’s summer camp, and often someone would take a few of the kids out onto the lake to fish.

If they made it to the boat, he could just row them along the shore to the next cabin, safely out of reach from the wolf—or else, Carrie would be safe out on the water while he remained and faced down the shifter.

Darrell was panting. The stink of wolf was still very distinct. The shifter had to be close...

Darrell came to a sliding stop when before him, at the end of the gorge, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

A moment later, his pounding heart gave a jolt of relief when he recognized the person.

It was another shifter—and one he knew well. Glory had come to his rescue, staring down into the gorge with her hands on her hips, her hair wet from the rain, sticking to her face.

“Here,” he gasped when he reached her, all but thrusting Carrie's wet body at her. “Bring her back to the clan. The werewolf’s after her. Let me deal with him.”

“Why’re you always getting into trouble?” Glory said. “Seriously.” But her eyes were filled with worry, and she accepted the burden with no protest.

There were scars on her bare arms from past fights. Glory was a fighter, just like Darrell was. Carrie would be safe with her.

Then Darrell whipped around, just in time to see the werewolf show up at the end of the gorge. He’d slowed at the sight of Glory, but he was still coming forward, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Darrell grinned, eager to put an end to the fight.

“You’ve hurt my mate,” Darrell said, the bear inside him roaring with anger. “But this ends here. You won’t ever touch her again, not as long as I live.”

A heartbeat later, Darrell shifted.

The strength of his bear rushed through him. He reared up on his hind legs, baring his teeth as he roared his challenge.

In front of him, the wolf had now come to a stop. The animal's head tilted. For some reason, it had stopped snarling.

For a long moment, they stared at each other, wolf and bear. The wolf’s eyes were yellow, its fur a gray that had turned white at the muzzle.

And then, for no reason that Darrell could see, the wolf turned and ambled off, vanishing back into the shadows of the gorge as if he’d never come snarling after Darrell and Carrie with death in his eyes.

“Well, shit,” Darrell said when he shifted back himself a minute later.

The wolf was nowhere to be seen, and his bear was no longer able to make out his scent, apart from the tracks he had left.

A part of Darrell wanted to go after him—it was the part of him that was still on fire with protectiveness, remembering the vulnerable warmth of Carrie in his arms.

But if he’d really scared off the werewolf just like that, his first thought had to be of his mate now.

He hadn’t seen any wounds, but what if Carrie had hit her head? She’d been in an accident, and even with shifter healing a concussion was no joke.

His bear made a disappointed huff, but offered no protest when Darrell turned at last to follow Glory’s trail, shifting back into his bear to run faster. He caught up with her just as she reached the camp.

It was still raining heavily. Four children were staring morosely out of the opening of their tent. The large fireplace where Glory must have planned a barbecue was deserted, but beneath the roof of an open shack, Darrell could see boxes of food.

There was a cabin, too. They’d build it the past summer, together with the fireplace and the set of swings. When the sun shone, the cubs didn’t really need more of a playground than what the forest already offered them: there were berries to hunt for and trees to climb, and lots and lots of space where a group of cubs could run and play, with an adult bear or two watching over them.

Now, Glory carried his mate into the cabin—and then barred the entrance when Darrell tried to come after her.

“No bears inside,” she said sternly. “You smell like wet fur. Shift and towel yourself dry and dress yourself. I’ll do the same for her. Then you can come back.”

Chagrined, Darrell realized that Glory was right. He didn’t know when Carrie would wake again, and what sort of impression would it make if he charged into the bedroom, wet and naked?

Why’d she mind? She’s our mate, his bear said happily.

Inwardly, Darrell sighed as he ambled off towards the shed.

It held supplies for the barbecue—but usually, there was also a box of clothes in a few different sizes, just in case a shifter got caught out here without a change of clothes.

She doesn’t even know yet. And I’d like our first real meeting to be a bit more romantic, okay?

You humans, his bear grumbled. Always so difficult. Love’s not that hard. We both want a home and a family. That’s all there is to it.

“If only it were that easy.” Darrell couldn’t help but grin as he shifted back into his human form and ducked into the shed hidden beneath trees.

Water was dripping into his eyes, and he quickly toweled himself dry before he rummaged through the crate of clothes. There was a pair of jeans and a shirt that fit him, although whoever’d left the shirt there had clearly intended it as a joke.

“Ugh,” he said out loud, to the silent, amused rumble of his bear. “So much for romantic first meetings.”