Chapter Six
Powell shoved the iron poker at the fire, lining up the burning logs with precision. The flames surged and sputtered. What the fuck had he done? He couldn’t bear to look at Olivia. She’d trusted him.
He’d betrayed her trust. He was no better than Alfred, forcing himself on her.
Blind and injured, she was his responsibility. Not because he was a park ranger, but because he was her mate. Even though she didn’t seem to sense they were mates, he was sure they were. Hell, maybe wolves didn’t know when they met their mates. Maybe it took longer than a first touch for them to know.
It didn’t matter. He’d taken advantage of someone in a weaker position and that wasn’t his style. Kissing her when she was in such a vulnerable position had been out of line.
Dammit.
Sorry wasn’t enough, but what else could he say? She was stuck in his cabin for the foreseeable future unless they got out the snowmobile and tried to get to town. With her injury, the last thing they needed was to have to deal with an accident. They needed to wait until the snow stopped before snowmobiling, that would be safer. He’d gone out on rescues when the snow was pouring down, of course, but he didn’t want to risk his mate.
He peeked at her.
Blond hair splayed across her shoulders, blanket pulled up under her nose—she looked like a child hiding from a scary movie. Yet he knew how strong she was. The fact that she’d set out, blind, not once but twice, into the forest to get away from an unimaginable fate with her pack proved that.
She’d had a rough couple of days.
The flickering fire their only light, she was bathed in oranges and yellows, more beautiful than any girl he’d ever seen. Knowing she was his mate cast her in a different light, for sure, but he’d dare say she was gorgeous inside and out.
He’d kissed her because he couldn’t resist. He’d never been in that position before.
Way to go.
Now he felt like a first-class asshole. Never mind that she’d kissed him back. That might have been habit from dealing with Alfred, responding out of fear of repercussion if she didn’t. Anger rose in his gut.
If that damn wolf had harmed her, he would kill him. It wasn’t an idle threat. The bears had dealt with the wolves before, and Powell already knew what a scheming jerk the red wolf was. He’d used his own injured brother to gain the bears’ sympathy and scope out intel to take to the lions. Probably had been paid well too.
He breathed out slowly. Getting ahead of himself and letting his imagination run wild wasn’t going to solve anything. He didn’t know the truth about Olivia’s relationship with Alfred, other than she didn’t want to marry him.
She hadn’t said the wolf had done anything to her or physically harmed her, though clearly he’d been emotionally abusive. Powell shouldn’t leap to conclusions until he knew the whole story. Still, he couldn’t help but want to rip Alfred’s throat out for thinking about touching Olivia.
His bear reared up inside, pawing and begging to be released to go after Alfred.
Having a mate was complicated. Being a bear and having a mate that was a wolf?
Impossible.
For now, he’d have to make the best of things with Olivia. She’d be staying with him for a little while, until she was healed enough to get around on her own. No more trudging through the snow with a bum ankle though—he’d see to that.
“How about a sandwich for dinner?” Lame, yes, but practical. Plus, fixing dinner gave him a chance to think and maybe figure out a way to redeem himself. A way to apologize. He had to start talking to her again, somehow.
“Sure, that sounds good.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, gently easing her injured ankle onto the pillow. “Thank you.”
No mention of the kiss. And she was talking. Good signs.
“Give me a minute to set the table.” He placed the fire poker back into its holder. “Peanut butter and honey sandwiches okay? I know I have both.”
“Yes, I love peanut butter.” She kicked her legs forward and started to rise then winced and fell back into the couch. “I’m sorry I’m not much help.”
“You relax and let me fix dinner. You’re injured. I can make sandwiches.” Relieved she didn’t seem mad, he headed toward the kitchen.
The open-floor plan of the cabin allowed him to keep his eye on her, and he grabbed a candelabra off the bookcase and set it on the table then lit the candles. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, folding her hands under her cheek. She rested a few minutes, and he retrieved the honey from the pantry. When he returned, she was sitting up.
“Powell?” Her voice rang out, clear and firm.
“Yeah? What is it?” He grabbed the loaf of bread and pulled the peanut butter from the cabinet.
“When we’re eating, I want to talk.” She twisted the edge of the blanket with her fingertips, worrying the edges.
He swallowed and pulled out two plates from the cabinets beside the sink. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we talk?”
“About the kiss.”
He paused. “Okay.” He opened the silverware drawer and took out a knife, swallowing down the fear rising in his throat. “Whatever you want to talk about.”
A woman who’d turned down Alfred wasn’t going to let Powell get away with an unexplained kiss. He couldn’t blame her. If only he knew more about the mating of bears and wolves, he might understand what was going on, because he definitely felt a strong sense of protectiveness when he was around her. He couldn’t fully explain it, but it was something he’d never felt before.
A need to be near her. An urge to shelter her from anything that might hurt her.
A desire so white hot and pure, it could consume him if he let it.
* * *
Powell watched Olivia take a bite of the sandwich and set it back on the plate in front of her. He’d helped her to the table, letting her lean on him as she limped across the wooden floor. It’d taken every bit of willpower he had not to pick her up and carry her, though she was getting around better than a human would be so soon after an ankle injury. The last thing he needed to do was force her or overpower her. Make her feel weak around him.
He needed her to trust him. No, more than that, he wanted her to trust him.
The fire had heated the cabin, but a chill still filled the corners and dark areas, so he had retrieved one of his sweatshirts for Olivia. The gray shirt dwarfed her but provided some warmth, he hoped. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders.
“It’s good,” she said, mouth full. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
He pulled the strips of crust off his sandwich. “Me either, though I’d rather be having a juicy steak than a peanut butter and honey sandwich.” He laughed.
She sipped her water then set the glass down, smiling. “Me too.”
He ate in silence, waiting on her to start the conversation he dreaded. The fire popped across the room, and occasionally, the wind whistled through small cracks around the windowpanes. Olivia was quiet, eating and seemingly lost in thought. Though blind, it didn’t take her any time to figure out and remember where her food and drink were on the table.
He wiped his mouth and set his napkin down, his sandwich gone. After a long yawn, he drank another gulp of water. Things had been too exciting for winter. His body was tired, and he was used to napping much of the winter away. Lying awake the night before hadn’t helped. Exhaustion crept through his muscles and he stifled a yawn.
If he had to stay awake, he would. For Olivia, anything.
“You kissed me.” She pushed her empty plate away. “Why?”
He opened his mouth then closed it. Her straightforwardness both shocked and pleased him. Never a fan of games or passive aggressiveness, he was still a bit taken aback. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to.”
“I see.” She seemed to think about his answer for a minute.
He stood. “I’m going to put our dishes in the kitchen.”
“Okay. But we aren’t done talking.” She drank the last of her water. “Aren’t you afraid of Alfred? I mean, that you kissed me. He’d kill you for kissing me.”
“No, I’m not afraid of Alfred. Are you?” He gathered their plates and set them on the kitchen counter. “Besides, I thought you didn’t want to be with him.”
“I don’t, and I won’t. But I’m still afraid of him. He’s...mean.”
“I can handle him. You don’t need to worry. We’re safe here.”
“I wouldn’t want something to happen to you.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“I can take care of Alfred if I need to. You don’t need to worry. Let’s go back in the living room by the fire where it’s warm.”
“Yes. Please.”
He took her by the arm, and she leaned on him as she limped. He breathed her in, trying not to be too obvious. If she’d allow, he’d take her in his arms and kiss her again. But he didn’t get a read on whether she’d liked the kiss or was upset by it. He couldn’t risk another one.
Not yet.
She sat on the couch.
“I’ll be right back. I need to grab something from the bedroom.” He glanced at the fire to make sure the wood situation was okay. The fire blazed, the wood filling the fireplace.
“I’ll be here.” She yawned. “Not like I can go anywhere. But you know that.”
“Yeah, we’re stuck. Give me a minute.”
He headed to his room and grabbed his hairbrush off the dresser then returned to the living room. She had her head leaned back on the edge of the couch, her eyes closed, her neck bare. His pulse quickened at the sight of her exposed neckline, pale and long. He reached out to run his fingertips along the skin, but pulled away.
Did this mate thing always make bears crazy? It seemed like he was barely in control of his actions. Olivia was like a strong magnet—stronger than any he’d ever been around. And he was pure metal.
He moved to sit beside her and she turned to face him. “You’re back.”
“Yes. I’d like to brush your hair.” He used his low and calm voice. “If you’ll let me.”
She raised her head. “Is it that bad?”
He smiled. “It’s a bit of a tangle. I thought we could talk while I do it.”
“Okay. That’d be nice. Thank you. What do you want to talk about?”
“Turn to the side.” He helped her move. “I don’t know. What do you want to talk about?”
“Not snow or winter or injured ankles or Alfred.”
He brushed her hair in long strokes from scalp to end. The pale strands glistened in the firelight as they fell from his fingertips. Maybe she’d relax. His father used to brush his mother’s hair, and Powell saw how much she’d loved it. He never thought that one day he’d use the same technique to try to relax his mate. He took a deep breath and steeled himself against a possible pushback.
“Let’s talk about your shifting ability. I’m curious to learn more about it.” He stopped to pick at a tangle.
“You mean my inability to shift.” She winced. “Ouch.”
“Sorry. That was a pretty tight tangle.” He continued. “So you’ve never been able to shift? Not once? Not even when you were a child?” Shifting had come so easily for him, he couldn’t imagine not being able to change into his bear. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had to think about the process. It was always accessible. A part of who he was. His bear was right there, waiting to come to the surface and take charge. He’d assumed that was true for all shifters.
“Never. And I’ve tried. Really hard. I simply don’t have the ability.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m simply not meant to shift.”
How to respond to her? He brushed another section, detangling the knots and straightening the length. Never shifting? He couldn’t deal with that. Being a bear was such an integral part of who he was—to not be able to shift? He’d want to die.
“Are there other wolves that can’t shift?” He tried to keep his tone light, but she was bound to feel lonely. Being among shifters and not sharing the ability was a fate he wouldn’t want to suffer. Maybe he shouldn’t push it, but he wanted to know what was going on.
“Not that I’ve ever known or heard of. I’m the only lucky one.” She turned her face toward him, smirking. “And bonus! I’m blind too. Don’t you think I’m incredibly lucky?”
A burst of wind rattled the windowpanes, and she turned her head toward the sound. He sensed her fear rising.
“It’s the wind. Nothing more.” He paused his brushing.
“I guess I’m a bit jumpy.”
“Understandable.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “You’ve had a lot of things going on. And Alfred isn’t someone to mess with. You’re right, he’s dangerous.”
“If I could shift, I would be able to fight him on my own. Or escape without falling down an embankment.”
“To be honest, I think you can shift. I think you have the ability inside you, somewhere. You’re a wolf, and wolves are strong creatures. Majestic. Maybe you haven’t found your magic yet. But I’ll bet it’s there.”
“I don’t think so. Otherwise, I would’ve found it by now. It’s not like I haven’t tried.”
“Maybe you haven’t been looking in the right place.”
“Maybe. But maybe my being blind keeps me from seeing what I need to see to be able to shift.”
He placed his hand over her heart. “I think you can see everything you need to see right here.”
She touched his hand for a moment, her hand trembling. “I don’t know, Powell. I’ve tried everything. Maybe it’s time to accept that I’m damaged and I’m simply not like the other wolves. It happens, right?”
“You’re definitely not like any wolf I know. You’re better.” He took a deep breath. “If only you could see what I see in you.”
She moved her hand and ducked her head. “You’re as blind as I am. Maybe more so.”
He started brushing again, and she closed her eyes as he twisted the silken strands gently. Anguish nearly consumed him. He hurt for her. Yet she was kind and empathetic. She hadn’t turned out bitter and hardened as some people would. She accepted things and made the best of them, and when things happened to her that she didn’t like, she made an effort to change them. Running from Alfred had taken more courage than most people could imagine, much less muster.
He ran the brush through her hair, teasing out each tangle. Every brush stroke sent an electric impulse skittering up his arm. It was as if her wolf called to him. Her heart beat a rhythm composed especially for him. His bear paced, growling for release.
And Powell wanted to answer that call.
He did think she knew how to shift, somewhere deep inside. She needed help. A clue where to begin. How could he help her? There had to be a way.
The sudden realization made his mouth go dry, and he set the brush in his lap.
“What about Shoshannah? Maybe she could help you.” Excitement coursed through him. The ancestral spirit might actually be able to help Olivia shift. Healing her would be exactly the type of thing Shoshannah would do. She might cure her blindness, though that was less likely.
Olivia’s shoulders drooped. “The cave spirit? I thought she was merely a legend until Alfred said she helped Claude when he was shot. But I didn’t realize she helped anyone. Especially someone like me.”
“She helps shifters. Not everyone, but some. She also offers advice, kind of like an oracle of sorts. You should talk to her. She might help.”
Olivia tensed. “And she truly heals people? Alfred wasn’t lying about Claude?”
“She does. She takes care of all the shifters of Deep Creek. Sure, she mainly helps the shifters who guard the cave, but yes, she did help Claude. No one knows how she picks and chooses.”
“It’s hard to believe.”
“Yes, I know. But it’s true. I’ve seen her.”
“What does she look like?” Olivia cocked her head. “I’ve heard she’s very beautiful and pure. Of course, I’ll never see her.”
He paused. “When I’ve seen her, mostly she’s been a large white bear, sometimes made of smoke or light or rain. White, like the brightest light. She often speaks aloud and occasionally in a person’s head. Sometimes, a shifter might go and meditate all day and she won’t appear. She’s not a simple creature, but she knows when and who she wants to help.”
“Hmm. Definitely sounds magical. I wonder if she would speak to me.”
“I don’t know. If she could help you, that would be great. We should go to her and find out.” He moved the brush onto the pillow beside him. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask her, anyway. If you want to, that is.”
He waited for her response, hoping she would agree though he could tell she wasn’t fully buying the idea of a cave spirit. He couldn’t blame her.
Nar leapt onto the couch. “Meow.”
He reached for Nar, but the cat hopped down.
“When can we go?” Olivia’s voice betrayed her excitement. “If she can help me see, or shift, I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to talk to her. As soon as possible.”
“Maybe tomorrow if it stops snowing. We can take the snowmobile and be at the cave in no time. If Shoshannah can help, it could be the miracle you need to free you from Alfred’s grip.”
“Do you think she can? I’m afraid to get my hopes up.”
“It’s worth a shot. What have you got to lose?”
Olivia nodded. “Yes, I want to go. I hope the snow stops soon.”
“Me too.”