by Sophie Stern
I wasn’t supposed to lose them.
Tears threaten to spill, but I shove those emotions down. I can feel sad or scared or like a bad mom later. Once I find my boys, that’s when I’ll allow myself to feel anxious or stressed.
Not until then.
Not a moment sooner.
I take a deep breath and look around the campsite once more. I’m no hunter. I’m not anyone special. I mean, I’m a romance writer, for dragon’s sake. What the hell do I know about being stuck in the woods?
Only, I wrote a book a few months ago about some campers who discovered a secret treasure while they were on vacation in the wilderness, so maybe I can use that.
The first thing I do is get my phone and my watch. I pocket the phone. There’s no service here, but there might be later. Then I get my watch and put it on my wrist. From what I can tell, I wasn’t out for very long, but when I opened my eyes, I was very groggy, and I lay next to the campsite for about half an hour, just dozing in and out of consciousness. Yeah, that can’t be good for me.
“Okay,” I say out loud. “First, figure out where they went. Nope,” I hold up my finger, as though I’m having some sort of revelation, and more importantly, that there’s someone here to see it. “First, get some clothing.”
If I find them and they’ve somehow managed to change back into their little boy forms, then I’m going to need clothing for these kids. They’re five-year-olds, after all. They aren’t bears. Not really. Whatever’s happening has to have some sort of normal, logical explanation.
It’s just that I haven’t heard of the explanation.
And I haven’t heard of anyone who can just change into a bear.
I grab my knapsack and shove a pair of clothing in it. The little shoulder bag is something I planned to use for day hikes and walking around. It’s big enough for clothing, but just barely, and I can’t fit anything else in there.
When I go back to where the campfire was, I realize that it’s almost completely dead. Night is upon us, and my kids are out there. They’re out there and they’re lost and they’re probably scared and shit!
Okay, so maybe I actually am a bad mom.
Taking a deep breath, I start walking away from the campfire. In my book, my characters looked for footprints and things like broken twigs to figure out which direction to go. I swing my flashlight around until I spot what look like bear tracks.
Good job, kids.
So, my boys aren’t exactly known for their suave jaunts. They’re little kids. They’re clumsy and they’re messy and they’re a little bit wild.
That’s fine.
I walk in that direction, heading away from the camp.
“Silas!” I yell into the darkness. I listen carefully, but there’s nothing. “Sebastian!”
Still nothing.
I don’t know whether yelling out for my kids is a good thing or a bad thing. There might be wild animals out here. There might be creatures who could hurt me, but I just can’t seem to care. I have to find my kids.
When I planned this camping trip, it was supposed to be a chance to get away from the chaos of my normal life. I work a lot and my job as a writer takes up a lot of my time. Even when I’m home with the boys, I know that I tend to drift off into “writer mode” more often than I should.
This trip was supposed to be a chance for us to just get away and spend time together.
I parked about thirty minutes from the campsite and the kids and I walked the rest of the way up here on a little path. The campsite we chose has been cleared and is perfectly tailored to families. There’s no running water or public bathroom or anything like that, but there’s a fire pit and it’s got beautiful views.
My kids are young to go camping, and a few of my fellow writers mentioned concern when I said we were going off to camp near Storm Haven, but come on.
I just wanted to live a little.
Well, now I guess I’m living a little more than I should have.
I’m walking in the opposite direction from where I parked. This is unfortunate because I’d love to just get in the car and drive away and find someone to come up here and help me. Surely there are troopers and outdoorsy-people who can help find a couple of little kids.
But what would I say?
“Um, excuse me? My kids changed into little bears and ran away?”
Uh, yeah.
That sounds like a really fast way to die a slow and painful death in a sanitarium.
“Silas!” I call again. “Sebastian!”
It’s getting colder, and I’m starting to feel even more afraid. I’m walking through the woods, and I’m following their tracks, but it’s chilly out here. How far did they go? Where did my kids wander off to?
I don’t like knowing that the two of them are out here by themselves. They’re much too young to know how to stay safe at night in the woods and I…
I’ve really failed them.
A heavy weight seems to settle on my chest and it’s so painful that I don’t notice the animal watching me at first. Its eyes are tracking me, but it’s not for a full minute after I notice those two blinking eyes that it really registers just how much trouble I’m in.
A wolf.
There’s a wolf.
And it sees me.
At first, I keep walking. I can see it watching me from the brush, but there’s at least fifteen feet between us. Maybe if I keep walking, it’ll realize that I’m not a threat, and it’ll go away.
Only, I’m not stupid, and I know that there’s no way this is going to end well for me.
I swing my flashlight toward the wolf, illuminating it. It steps from the shadows of the brush and starts walking toward me. It’s taking its time, I realize. It’s moving slowly, and I know why.
I am all alone.
I smell like fear. Hell, I probably reek of it, and this monster can do whatever it wants to me.
I have no way to get away. I have nowhere to go. That doesn’t stop the scream that escapes from my mouth. I’m shaking, and the flashlight is shaking, and I scream as loud as I can, drop the flashlight, and start running.
I didn’t mean to drop it, but there’s no going back now.
I shout, crying out as I run as fast as I can on the forest path ahead of me. So this is it. This is how I die. I lost my kids and now, after everything I’ve gone through, I’m about to lose my life.
Somehow, when I pictured my future death, I thought it would be surrounded by friends and family members who loved me. I thought that readers would flock to my funeral to celebrate the writer they’ve all grown up adoring.
I didn’t think I’d be mauled by a wolf in the middle of the forest.
I didn’t think that.
It’s claws hit my back and I fall to the ground. I cry out as I hit it, and suddenly everything hurts.
“Please!” I scream. “Please don’t hurt me.”
I don’t know why I’m arguing with a wolf, though, and I don’t know what good it’s going to do. My back hurts from where the wolf’s nails dug into my skin, and I can feel the cold air spinning in the tears on my shirt.
But I don’t die.
And the wolf seems to vanish.
At least for a second.
Then I hear the screams: it’s fighting something. It’s howling and there’s…oh shit, it’s a bear. I recognize the sounds of the bear’s growling and I roll over, somehow, and look over. The moon shines down and I can see them battling. The wolf and the bear are fighting one another, but it’s hardly a fair fight. There’s a little dog, too, and it’s barking at the wolf. Okay, so that creature is on Team Bear. Got it.
I slowly start to scoot backwards. I need to get out of here because as soon as this fight is over, I’m going to be eaten alive.
Scoot.
Scoot.
Scoot.
I push myself backwards, farther away from the fighting, but the little dog seems to notice me. I look over just as the bear bats the wolf away for the very last time. The wolf fl
ies through the air and falls, unmoving. I think it’s safe to say that Mr. Bear is the winner.
The dog comes over and barks, alerting the bear to my presence.
“Please go away,” I find myself whispering.
Everything hurts.
My entire body hurts.
My throat hurts. My ears hurt. My back hurts.
Everything is sore and I don’t think I can even contemplate trying to fight a bear.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please, no.”
The bear approaches, but to my surprise, it doesn’t attack me. It comes closer and closer, and I’m ashamed when I close my eyes and finally start to cry. Again, this isn’t how I saw myself dying. I didn’t think I’d be bawling in the middle of the woods at night. I didn’t think I’d be killed by a huge creature.
I didn’t think a little dog would be the one who led me to my death.
But I don’t die, and I open my eyes.
The bear squats down, looking at me. It seems to cock its head. Why is it looking at me like that? Why is it just staring at me?
The bear looks like it knows something I don’t know, and then I realize that it’s a bear. My kids are also bears. Did this bear find my children? Can it smell the kids on my clothes?
Suddenly, I push myself up. I’m pretty worn down and it takes me a few tries, but I manage to get to my feet.
“Have you seen my kids?” I whisper. “My cubs?”
The bear doesn’t move. If it understands me, I can’t tell. I bite my lip to keep from crying out. My wrists hurt from landing on them. Hell, even my legs hurt.
“My children,” I try again. “They’re out there. I have to find them. Have you seen them, Mr. Bear?” I whisper the words, but the bear just looks at me.
Okay, so it doesn’t know where my kids are. Either that, or it doesn’t speak human, but I’m still alive, and I don’t think this bear is going to kill me, so I turn and start walking away.
Instantly, the dog starts barking, nipping at my ankles.
“Please,” I whisper. I shake my leg, trying to get the dog to leave me alone, but I finally stop and turn back. The bear hasn’t moved, but he’s still watching me. Suddenly, I’m very aware that this bear is, in fact, a he.
I look at the creature, wondering what he’s going to do, and then he motions to me.
I point to myself, as though I can’t believe what’s happening right now, but he repeats the gesture. It’s like he wants me to follow him, and you know what? My night has been so crazy that somehow, I find myself moving after him.
One step at a time.
Chapter Three
Heath
I found her.
I don’t know how it happened, but I found her.
What luck.
As a matter of principal, when two little bear cubs come wandering into my home, I don’t leave them alone. Tonight is very different from anything I could have predicted, though. The kids haven’t been abandoned, which was a fear that was nagging at the back of my mind.
After all, it’s no secret that taking care of children can be incredibly difficult.
If a human’s children randomly changed into bears, it would be natural for a parent to completely freak out. I mean, I’m not sure how someone could not know their kids were shifters. Maybe a woman mated with a shifter male and it was a one-night kind of deal. Perhaps there was a situation where the mom just really had no way to know.
I don’t know.
The woman is shaking as she follows me, though, and part of me thinks I should change back into my human form right now just so I can reassure her that everything is going to be fine, but I don’t.
It’s fucking cold outside.
Besides, I don’t want to scare her even more. If I shift into my human form and she freaks out, I’m going to have a hell of a time convincing her that I’m not a freak and that her kids are safe.
I just want to help her find her kids.
So, I move slowly through the darkness, carefully guiding her back to my cabin. Soon we arrive at the little home, and she stops outside of my house and looks up at it. I wonder what she’s thinking as she eyes the design. It’s a beautiful cabin, at least if you ask me, but then again, I designed this place to live. I didn’t want something simple or tiny. I wanted something comfortable and wonderful to help me move on with my life.
I needed a place to just forget.
I needed a place where I could just be myself.
She stops outside of the cabin and looks at it for a very long time. It’s so long, in fact, that for a minute, I wonder if she’s going to go inside or if she’s just going to walk away. She looks over at me, though, and she nods.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
One of them?
She bites her lip and looks from me to the cabin and back again.
“So, I’m not going crazy.”
I can’t tell if she’s speaking to herself or to me.
“My kids,” she says. “They were turned into little animals. Bears. Like you. I know it sounds crazy. It’s crazy, right? I mean, nobody’s kids just turn into bears.” She shakes her head, and I want to reach for her and tell her that no, she’s not crazy.
Who is this woman?
Why was she even in the woods?
And how did she not know that her kids were shifters?
“Can you change into a person?” She asks.
Spot barks lightly, and she looks at him.
“You’re just a dog,” she says. “You’re too playful to be a…I don’t even know what ya’ll are called. Changers? I don’t know. But you,” she looks at me and shakes her head. “You’re something else. You look…sad.”
Well, shit.
“So are you?” She asks. “Are you one of those things? Like my kids?” She looks back to the cabin and then to me once more. “Because if you are, I need to know. I don’t know why you brought me here if you aren’t one of them. Bears don’t live in houses in the woods.”
She watches me, and I realize that I have a choice to make.
I don’t really want to reveal myself to her, but she looks so pained and hurt that I realize I don’t have a choice.
So I do it.
I close my eyes, and I change back into myself. I hear her gasp, and I know my shift is complete before I even really feel it. I open my eyes, and she’s not looking at me.
Not my face, anyway.
Yeah, she’s staring right at my damn cock, and lucky me, it’s hard as fuck.
“I can explain.”
“Shhh,” she holds up a hand to silence me.
“Did you just shush me?” Should I be aroused or annoyed?
“What’s going on?” She asks, but she doesn’t look away from my dick. Okay, now it’s kind of starting to bother me.
“Hey, I’m more than my penis,” I tell her.
“What are you?” She asks.
This time, she does look up at me.
“I’m a bear shifter.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m both a man and a bear, and I can change between both as needed.”
It’s the simplest explanation I’ve ever given.
Not that I’ve ever given it before.
I’ve only ever dated shifters. I’ve only ever gotten close to other shifters. I’ve only spent time around people who know and understand and respect what I am.
Being around this woman?
It’s kind of throwing me off my game.
“My kids changed into bears.”
“They’re inside.”
She breathes a sigh of relief and turns to the cabin. She looks at it for a long minute before turning to me.
“What happened to them?”
“You didn’t know your husband was a shifter?”
“I don’t have a husband.”
“Their father should have told you.”
She looks at the cabin again and bites her lip. Does she want to tell me something? For a second, I thi
nk that she does, but she shakes her head.
Apparently, there’s more to the story than I know. I wonder if it’s something I’m going to be privilege to.
“I’m going to go inside,” she says finally. “Thank you for rescuing them. And us. Thank you.”
She goes up to the cabin and pulls the door open. Then she disappears inside and I hear the bears start to squeal and growl and laugh as they make their way to their mom. Okay, good, so they recognize her.
It shouldn’t be long before they shift back.
I look at Spot for a long minute. He watches me, too, as if to tell me what an idiot I am. Funny. I don’t need anyone to tell me how stupid I am in this moment.
Whatever.
I head inside, grab a pair of pajama pants, and yank them on before going over to the happy little family.
“They’ve shifted back.”
“So they have.”
“It’s usually tricky for bears to shift back the first time.”
“I guess they’re fast learners,” she says, but I’m not totally convinced. Fast learners? I mean, that’s one way to put it.
“I guess.”
The woman takes clothing out of her bag. So she came prepared. She hands it to the kids and they yank their clothing on. Then she turns back to me.
“Thank you again for finding them.”
“I’m Heath,” I say awkwardly, sticking my hand out. She looks at it for a long time before nodding.
“Theresa,” she tells me.
“If you have any questions about bear shifters,” I start to say.
“I know where to come.”
Theresa grabs her kids’ hands and starts to walk toward the door, but I stop her, blocking her path.
“Bad idea.”
“What? Why?” She looks scared, and I hold up my hand.
“I’m not interested in hurting you, Theresa. Just listen.”
We listen quietly and I can tell she doesn’t hear it at first.
“Wolves,” she finally says.
“There are more of them. You shouldn’t go back to your camp tonight.”
Honestly, I want to know who told her camping up here was a good idea, anyway. It’s a well-known fact that there are wolves out here. Anyone who would risk camping is either an idiot or has a suicide wish. I don’t think either of those terms apply to Theresa, but she definitely got some bad advice from somewhere.