CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Is this why you stopped kissing me?”
I had tried to steel myself for Wisp’s reaction to what I was. I’d expected fear, hysteria, rejection.
I should have known better.
Somehow, she always managed to surprise me, even when I was the one who had shifted into an entirely different being (a fucking monstrous bear) in front of her.
Her seemingly easy acceptance of that fact had my fingers falling away from her tender ankle in disbelief.
I stared. “You just saw me turn into a bear,” I said, taking my time to slowly annunciate the words – like she had blinked and somehow missed it, “and that’s what you ask?”
Even in the dark, I was close enough to Wisp to see a red flush creep up her neck. “Um… actually, technically speaking, I just saw a bear turn into you,” she corrected me, a nervous giggle bubbling up her throat. “But, I mean, same thing, I guess, right?”
A frown tugged at my mouth.
I didn't know what to say – what could I possibly say?
Luckily for me, Wisp wasn’t suffering from the same problem. The exact opposite, actually. I watched, fascinated, as she embarked on a desperate sort of ramble. “As for my question, I mean, why wouldn’t I ask about the kiss? I mean, it was good, right?” Her face grew impossibly redder. “I mean, I thought it was good. And, sure, it’s shocking, you know, that you’re a bear – at least, some of the time you are, I guess – but you’re still Derek, right? Regardless of your… furry status, you’re the same man who pulled me out of the river and housed me the past two weeks, the same man who makes me breakfast every morning, the same man who-”
I managed to reel in my astonishment long enough to press a finger to her lips. She immediately quieted. “Why aren’t you freaking out?” I demanded.
She blinked. “Oh, I am definitely freaking out. Internally, I’m a mess right now. I mean, I just witnessed something that should, by all scientific accounts, be completely impossible.” Her eyes lit up. “Wait. Is the bear, like, your animagus form?”
My frown deepened. Maybe she was in more shock than I thought if she was speaking gibberish. “What the hell is an… animagus?”
Wisp’s brow scrunched, and she looked adorably affronted. “We’ll discuss your abysmal lack of literary knowledge later,” she promised, having the nerve to eye me in disbelief. Until said eyes wandered a bit too far down, anyway.
She slapped a hand over them in mortification. “Sorry!” she squeaked. “I guess I sort of forgot about the whole naked thing for a minute there. Which, I mean, is probably the most unbelievable thing about this entire situation. Your thighs are stupidly ripped, by the way.”
Everything about Wisp’s reaction to “this entire situation”, as she put it, was asinine.
I’d just revealed that I could turn into a dangerous predator at the drop of a hat, and she was more concerned about my nudity, something that I was so used to as a shifter – shorn clothes came with the territory when you were frequently transforming into an animal infinitely larger than yourself – that it didn’t even occur to me it would leave her flustered.
I had to admit that her sincere embarrassment was… cute. Foolish, but cute.
An entirely involuntary grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Well, I can’t exactly magic some clothes out of thin air, now can I?”
She peeked up at me from between her fingers. “Are you sure?” she pressed, sounding perfectly serious. “I mean, have you ever tried?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head… you know, again?”
I could scarcely believe I was teasing her right then. My light tone was completely contradictory to the stiffness of my muscles. My body was still singing with tension, waiting for the other shoe to drop – for Wisp to react like a normal person, to scream, run off. I’d expected to have to give chase and hold her down if I had to as I desperately tried to explain what I was.
But all Wisp did was blink. She lowered her hands, pressing a finger to her cheek as she pretended to ponder. “I don't know. It’s possible, I suppose. I mean, I did just see a man transform into a bear.”
“Actually, you saw a bear transform into a man, remember?”
Wisp snorted at the reminder of the way she’d corrected me earlier before offering a faint, “Yeah, I know.”
And there was that faint trace of hysteria I was looking for leaking into her voice. I still couldn’t detect any fear, though – at least not fear of me – in her words or her demeanor. The complete lack of it spoke of her (not so) startling lack of self-preservation.
It made me even more desperate to protect her from the world.
I sighed, leaning forward and scooping her into my arms.
She squawked when I hoisted her into the air, one arm stationed under her knees and the other wrapped around her shoulders. “What are you doing?” she demanded, sounding panicked. Maddeningly enough, I was almost certain the extra stress in her voice stemmed from the fact that I was naked, not that I had literally been a bear five minutes ago.
“Your ankle’s sprained,” I explained reasonably. “You can’t walk, can you?”
Her lips twisted into a pout that had no right looking as erotic as it did. “Well… not really,” she admitted, “but, I mean, you’re nude.”
“Yes, we’ve covered that,” I agreed, unable to keep the amusement out of my voice.
“Totally uncovered, actually,” she mumbled under her breath – the words obviously not meant for my ears. “Look,” she said, more loudly, “I appreciate you helping me out and all, but don’t you think we have some important matters to discuss. Like, say, the fact that in your free time you go rampaging through the woods as a bear?”
She was right, of course, but I wasn’t about to have that conversation with her out in the rain. Not when I could feel how chilled Wisp’s skin felt pressed against mine, when I could see the way her lips were slowly turning a pale shade of blue.
“I’ll answer your questions as soon as I get you inside and warm. You’re soaked through, and you’ll get sick if you stay out here much longer.”
Wisp was quiet in the face of my concern. Then she sighed. “Alright,” she agreed, hesitantly allowing her head to rest against my shoulder.
We endured the rest of the walk to the cabin in a strained sort of silence. After all, despite her relatively calm acceptance of my supernatural nature, there was still so much between us that needed to be addressed.
Shifting Wisp’s miniscule weight to one arm when we eventually reached the cabin’s door, I twisted the knob and pushed it open with my hip.
As expected, Thane was upon us immediately.
He barked excitedly, jumping on me in his attempts to get at Wisp.
“Thane!” Wisp scolded lightly before she caught sight of the rest of the cabin – of the mess I’d made searching for her. “Um…?”
Ignoring her questioning look, I carefully deposited her on the floor before setting the couch upright and helping her sit. Thane wasted no time at all springing into her lap – well, as much of himself as he could fit in her lap, anyway – and making himself at home there. He prodded at her face with his nose, his long tongue bestowing a slobbery kiss to her cheek.
She just laughed.
I swallowed, something tight uncurling in my chest at the sight of her – the sound of her – back in my cabin – back where she belonged.
“Calm down, Thane. I missed you, too, silly boy.”
I resisted the urge to point out it had only been a few hours since she’d left. It would be awfully hypocritical of me, considering the state I’d been in when I’d discovered she was gone.
It felt like a small eternity had passed since then, since she’d wrapped her body around mine in my bed, since she’d kissed me…
I shook the memory from my mind, disappearing into the bedroom to pull on a pair of shorts. When I returned to the living room, my focus once again returned to Wisp. Thane was still in her lap, positively preening under the attention she was giving him.
“He was very upset that you left him behind,” I pointed out.
I was upset.
Wisp bit her lip, looking up at me through her lashes from her place on the couch. “You told me to leave,” she said quietly.
It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement. But that only infuriated me more.
“I didn’t mean for you to leave the cabin!” I exploded, no longer able to hold back the remnants of anger, hurt, and fear – Christ, the fear – I had felt when I’d discovered her missing. “How could you possibly think that? After buying you clothes, teaching you how to tend to the hens, after… doing what we did together” – kissing didn’t even come close to amply describing it – “do you really think I would just throw you out? In the middle of the night, in a fucking storm? And even if you did think that – why the hell would you go gallivanting off into the woods? Jesus Christ, do you have a death wish?”
Wisp was refusing to look at me by the end of my tirade, arms wrapped tightly around Thane’s neck, who was staring up at me with accusing eyes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely loud enough for even my supernatural hearing to pick up.
She sounded absolutely miserable – not at all what I intended.
And what the hell did she have to apologize for, anyway? I knew – even as I was actively shouting at her, I had known – that I was the one in the wrong – the one who was responsible for the entire mess that was tonight.
After all, Wisp may have run, but I was the one who had chased her away.
I was always chasing her away.
I dragged a hand roughly down my face. “Take a shower,” I ordered gruffly, “get warm, then we’ll talk.”
Wisped swallowed. “Okay,” she agreed, shooing Thane out of her lap before standing and stiffly hobbling her way to the bathroom.
I couldn’t stand it. The sight of her looking so fucking… defeated. Especially because I knew I was responsible.
I had to fix it.
“I was upset.”
Wisp froze half-way to the bedroom. She turned to look at me, a confused frown drawn on her face. “What?”
I forced myself to keep meeting her gaze – keep staring into her big, brown eyes. “I was upset that you left me behind,” I admitted, hoping Wisp recognized the words for what they were. They were more than a simple acknowledgment of my feelings; they were an apology.
For a moment, Wisp just stared.
Then she rushed me.
Taken off guard, I barely had the sense to catch her as she launched herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and clung. “Thank you,” she mumbled into my neck, her breath a warm puff against my neck. Her sweet scent clogged my nose.
I swallowed, the tension in my strained muscles slowly draining. Unable to resist the urge, I pressed my lips to the crown of her hair. “Don’t,” I muttered, “don’t do that to me again.”
Wisp shook her head. “I won’t.” It sounded like a promise.
I wanted to hold Wisp like that forever. But she was still wet, still cold, and when a massive shiver wracked her frame, I slowly untangled myself from her octopus arms. “Go, get warm.”
Wisp opened her mouth like she wanted to protest, but what came out instead was a sneeze. She sighed. “Fine,” she conceded. “But then we’ll talk.”
It was practically an order.
“Then we’ll talk,” I agreed grudgingly.
While Wisp showered, I took the opportunity to finish dressing, pulling a random shirt over my head before starting some coffee. Judging by how the rising sun was already sneaking in through the windows’ blinds, I was going to need it. I also made some hot chocolate for Wisp, knowing by the way her mouth had puckered the last – and only – time she’d tried coffee with me, she would prefer the sweet chocolate drink to the black brew.
I was just setting the steaming mugs down on the coffee table when she limped – I still had to get a proper look at her ankle – out of the bathroom in a tank top and pair of shorts – her typical bedtime garb. She had finished showering in record time, apparently as anxious to have this conversation as I was not to.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the cocoa, offering me a delighted little “thanks” before situating herself on the sofa. Thane, her ever faithful shadow, rested at her feet.
I reluctantly sat on the opposite edge of the couch, taking a long drag of my coffee as she sipped at her hot chocolate. We sat in silence for close to a minute, the only noise between us the sounds we made as we savored our drinks. It was a show down, in a way, over who could wait out who. Predictably, Wisp broke first.
She placed her half-empty mug on the coffee table – it made a little clink – before turning her body so that she was facing me. “So,” she said, “you’re a bear.”
She delivered the statement so blandly, like it was the beginning of a perfectly normal conversation, that part of me yearned to scold her for her recklessness. The other half was so grateful for her easy acceptance of it that it took all I had not to pull her into my arms and never let go.
In the end, I just sighed, following Wisp’s lead and setting my coffee down on the table. “I’m not a bear,” I explained succinctly, mentally preparing myself for a barrage of questions. “I’m a shifter. My shifter form just happens to be a bear.”
As usual, Wisp didn’t disappoint. “So… you can shift into a bear whenever you want then? It’s completely voluntary?”
I winced. “For the most part,” I hedged. “But it takes a lot of effort to control that part of yourself. It’s easy to have lapses or even partially shift at times. Shifting…it’s not a superpower. The bear is a part of you, almost like another entity, but not, because it’s you.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s hard to explain, but suffice to say, it’s easy to hurt others if you don’t have impeccable control.”
It was like Wisp didn’t even hear the “hurt others” part.
“Huh. I take it there are more people out there like you? Shifters, I mean?”
“There are others,” I confirmed reluctantly. “Not many, but enough.”
Her brow crinkled with worry lines. “You said your shifter form was a bear. Are there other forms that people can take?”
I nodded, and I couldn’t stop a tiny grin from forming when I realized the source of her sudden concern. “Yes, apex predators mostly, like wolves and large cats. Don’t worry, that rabbit we had in our stew last night wasn’t a person.”
Wisp huffed and rolled her eyes, but by the way her brow smoothed, I knew I’d read her correctly.
“Were you born this way? With the ability to shift, as you say? Or were you bitten, like a werewolf or something?”
“Born,” I assured. “And before you ask, my bite wouldn’t do anything to you but make you bleed. My… condition, it’s genetic. Just like some people are born with blue eyes and some people brown.
“And some green,” Wisp added softly, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she realized what she’d said. She cleared her throat. “Anyway… what happens when parents have different shifter forms?” she asked curiously. “Are there some shifters with freaky hybrid forms?” She sounded fascinated by the prospect.
I snorted. “It doesn’t work that way,” I explained. “Technically, female shifters don’t exist.”
A perturbed frown pulled at Wisp’s mouth. “No female shifters? But then how are babies made? I mean, do men…?” she trailed off, making a strange gesture with her hands.
I choked on a shocked laugh. “What? No! Well, I mean, men can do whatever they want with each other, I guess, if that’s their prerogative, but there’s no such thing as male pregnancies if that’s what you’re asking. It’s biologically impossible.”
Wisp huffed defensively, but the silly grin on her face gave her away. “Yeah, well, how am I supposed to know? I thought that shifting into a bear was 'biologically impossible' an hour ago.” She paused. “So, what then? Does only the father have to be a shifter to make babies?”
I sighed, not wanting to get into the particulars. “Not exactly. Females shifters do exist in a sense.”
Wisp frowned. “But you just said-”
“They’re just not called shifters,” I continued, “because they don’t have animal forms they can change into. Instead, they’re called bearers, because unlike normal human females, they can carry shifter children in their bellies. The general consensus is that their bodies are better equipped to handle the… idiosyncrasies of shifter pregnancies.”
Wisp blinked. “Oh. That makes sense, I guess.” She worried her bottom lip, something like apprehension shining in her eyes. “Is… is that why you stopped kissing me earlier, then? Because I’m not a bearer?”
I could feel tension gathering in the muscles of my neck and rolled my shoulders to stave off the stiffness. “It’s complicated,” I muttered.
Wisp frowned. “How is it complicated? I mean, I know what you are now. You can turn into a bear. So what? It's actually kind of…”
“Scary”, “unnatural”, “dangerous” would have all fit, but I had the exasperating feeling she was about to say, “neat.”
“…wait.”
I frowned. “What?” I asked. Had she finally come to her senses?
“Was that other bear at the river a shifter, too?” she demanded. “He seemed… different. More aware, somehow, than an animal should be.”
I shouldn’t have put it past her not to notice. After all, any normal bear would have mauled her. I was half-surprised Abram hadn’t, to be honest.
“Yes,” I admitted reluctantly. “That was my neighbor. He owns land on the other side of the river.” I saw Abram very rarely as a bear, and even less in town as a human. After what had happened, he’d given himself over to the bear. I imagined that he would rather drown in the uncomplicated emotions of him – anger, mostly – than work through the more complex feelings he felt as a human.
By now, he was practically feral.
“But I thought you said there weren’t many shifters in the world,” Wisp pointed out, forcing me to refocus my attention on her. “Isn’t it sort of strange to have two living so near to one another? Or are your kind naturally drawn to each other and form little communities?”
“There aren’t many,” I confirmed. “Some animals assemble packs of sorts, but not bears. We’re solitary creatures for the most part. We live in family units, but don’t often invite strangers into our world. Abram and I – we’re stuck here,” I explained wearily. “Tied to the land where… where…”
Distant memories of thick smoke and towering flames assaulted my subconscious.
…where a horrifying, life-altering event connected us.
Wisp furrowed her brow, a faraway look in her eyes. “The fire,” she murmured softly.
I froze, the flames in my memory growing hotter – more real – against my skin.
“What did you say?” I demanded hoarsely.
Wisp paled when she realized I’d heard her. “I’m sorry!” she blurted. “I shouldn’t have… I mean… I didn’t mean to pry! Gemma just mentioned it at the bar, and-”
“What exactly did Gemma mention?”
Wisp’s mouth opened and shut like she didn't know what to say. She swallowed. “She told me that your family died in a house fire,” she said finally. “That it’s why you live out here all alone. I… I’m so sorry, Derek.”
I wanted to tell her to save her apologies for someone who deserved them.
“Do you want to know what Gemma didn’t tell you?” I asked instead.
Like she somehow sensed she was on the cusp of learning something she didn’t want to know, Wisp hesitated. She licked her lips. “What?”
“What Gemma didn’t tell you, what she couldn’t tell you, is that I caused the fire.”