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Sasha heard the growling barks of the wolves as the scent of the woman he was tracking intensified. Under the sharp, gunpowder smell of the stranger’s fear, he could detect the smokier, wetter musk of the wild wolves, along with a faint wisp of familiar scent from the clan members he had called to help him. He was getting closer and closer to the strange woman; with any luck, he and the other members of the clan would get to her before the wolves did—and while he did not exactly enjoy the prospect of trying to steer an already frightened woman back towards the main road and out of the woods while in his bear form, Sasha thought it was at least preferable to the alternative: letting her be ripped apart by the hungry, opportunistic wolves.
Sasha’s luck ran out no more than a few steps ahead of him; he was nearing the woman, his three most trusted clan-mates behind him, when the sound of her screaming split the air. Sasha growled as the scent of blood filled his nose, washing over the pheromones and scents. One of the wolves had gotten to her—probably the leader. Sasha hurried his lumbering steps, lurching through the brush.
He barely made out the shape of human limbs, curled around a body in an attitude of self-protection, in the midst of a knot of harrying, growling wolves. His ursine eyes caught flashes of the woman’s blood from where the wolves had snatched at her arms and legs, spattering across the forest floor. Behind him, Sasha heard Armand, James, and Holt lumbering to a stop. He let out a barking, growling bawl—alerting the wolves to his presence. Behind him, James and Armand let out barks of their own, reinforcing the presence of superior predators.
The wolves looked up from their attack formation, their yellow-green eyes glowing in the moonlit darkness, and for a few moments the Alpha of the pack attempted to stare Sasha down. Sasha’s lips twitched as he growled once more, moving forward a step or two. Fear-scent filled the air, and in a few heartbeats the group of about six wolves twitched and sidled their way away, melting into the brush. The only sign of their existence was the faint rustle of their movements farther away from the site of their potential kill.
The woman whimpered, and Sasha looked down at her; he caught sight of one bright eye, peering up through thrown-up arms, along with light brown hair. Her clothing was in rags where the wolves had attacked, her arms and legs marked with jagged slashes and punctures from teeth. Sasha fell to all fours, grunting and chuffing as he carefully approached the woman. He could smell the fear-scent recede only to intensify once more as the woman realized that the wolves were away—but there were larger predators, every bit as deadly if not more so, converging on her. Her whimpers increased in speed and raised in pitch and Sasha considered how best to deal with her; her breaths came faster and faster as panic took over, and from the looks of her injuries, she would not be capable of just getting up and walking out of the woods, even with a guard of bears protecting her. He groaned, nosing at her foot, trying to be as non-threatening as it was possible for a large brown bear to be.
The woman tried to squirm away, gasping and panting, and Sasha debated the usefulness of transforming into his human form; on the one hand, she would likely find a human—even a naked human—more comforting than a bear. On the other, the sight of a bear becoming a human was likely to make her panic, and of course he and the clan had survived by keeping their dual natures completely a secret, just like all shifters. The woman let out an impulsive, instinctive scream and then her entire body went limp in the underbrush, her arms falling about her head, her legs going slack in the midst of the low-lying branches and shrubs.
For a moment, Sasha took in the sight of her; the woman was maybe 5’8”, dressed in jeans and a light sweater—just enough for the slight chill in the spring air—with soft light brown hair that would have fallen past her shoulders if it wasn’t scattered amongst the loamy soil and leaves. He snorted as he peered at her, taking in the lush curves of her body: full breasts, broad hips, thick, strong thighs wrapped in denim. For a moment, he felt a flicker of his mating drive starting up; the woman was just exactly his type, or would have been if she wasn’t foolish enough to get lost in the woods and attacked by wolves.
Coming to a decision, Sasha realized that she needed medical attention; one of the other members of the clan, a doctor in the small town of Green Tree, could see to her wounds—and should. Sasha glanced at the three clan-mates who had followed him. Tell the others, he told the three mentally, projecting an image of himself in human form, carrying the woman in the direction of the small town they lived in. She will need to see Nathan. Sasha felt the querying mental touches, the suggestion of “Couldn’t we just leave her be?” that was not quite a complete thought. He shook his head, letting out a low growl. He wouldn’t leave the woman to be attacked again; and from the looks of the tears and punctures in her skin, she would need stitches and other medical attention. She might have been injured even more than the obvious—he had heard the noise she’d made running through the forest.
Groaning, Sasha crouched down on the ground and started the transformation into his human form. His preternatural strength would make it much easier for him to carry the woman into town, but he would have to just hope that she would remain unconscious long enough for him to get to the hollow log where his clothing was secreted. And then too, Sasha thought bleakly, he would have hell to pay if she woke up before he came up with some explanation. A more human-sounding groan left his throat as Sasha’s bones tingled and crackled in his body, shifting and moving. He itched all over as the fur retreated, as his hands transformed from paws, as every molecule of his body rearranged itself into a human configuration. For a fleeting moment, he let himself look at the stranger on the ground, feeling a rush of resentment that he had to change back into his human form on such short notice, long before he had wanted to. But it wasn’t her fault ultimately; bad luck could happen to anyone. Go back to your foraging, Sasha told the other three werebears. There’s no point in all of us losing the best part of the night.