Bear Caves Complete Series: A Bear Shifter Box Set

by Mia Wolf

  A deafening applause catches me off guard; I had been completely entranced by Eli’s words, they reached somewhere deep. Before I can understand what has happened, that Warren and I have just sworn our lives to each other in front of the entire village, he pulls my chin up to him and drowns me in the sensation of his lips on mine. The tenderness with which he kisses me makes my heart skip a beat. I feel treasured, and cherished like just being me is a gift.

  “Thanks for being a part of my life, Ashley,” Warren whispers so close to my ear that it tickles. “I love you.”

  I haven’t heard those words come out of his mouth in a long time so when I do I’m brought to tears, and I barely manage to say it back. “I love you, too.”

  As the ceremony ends and the party begins, everyone starts dancing in the empty space where the altar was before. It’s transformed into a dance floor with music blaring from the large speakers in the back.

  I see Rose and Andrew really break it down with moves I couldn’t hope to do in my twenties and now it’s out of the question.

  “I don’t have that many bones in my body,” I tell Rose when she insists that I dance, and she doesn’t push me.

  Joshua and Andrew try to force Warren to go up and dance as well but he refuses, too. So while the entire village celebrates, the two of us remain seated next to each other, watching the night go by.

  “You don’t have to sit here because of me,” I tell him. And he glares at me for a second before giving me an earful about it.

  “One, that’s exactly what it means to be a mate. That I sit here next to you because we’re bonded for life. I know we made a pact that we do whatever we want to but trust me, I suddenly want to. I want to be tied to you and be where you are. Is that too cheesy?” he asks cocking his head to one side.

  “A little bit,” I say jokingly then I reel him in for a kiss. “But it’s also kind of romantic.”

  “Do you want to just wrap around each other and move in circles?” Warren asks as he stands up from his seat and offers me his hand.

  I don’t want to, but I do it for him because what the hell, right?

  But just when I think that Warren is going to drag me into the thick of the wild party that’s happening at the rotunda, he leads me away from the crowd and onto the lawns in the back where the music and the noise are much lower. It’s a sufficient distance away that the sudden quiet makes me hear my heart. It seems to be pounding in my chest.

  “Have I told you that you look extremely hot in a tux?” I say to Warren as he curls around me, resting his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer so I can rest my head on his shoulder. We move from side to side like the lull of the sea, soft and endlessly.

  “Have I ever told you,” he asks in response, “that you look hot all the time? And that I can’t believe that you managed to look even hotter tonight?” He pauses and leans in closer to my ear. “Can’t wait to peel that beautiful dress off of you.”

  I scoff at him, lightly slapping his shoulder. “As if,” I say. “You’re not touching me tonight, I’m beat.”

  He pouts and makes a sad face then kisses me deeply as if to say, “your wish is my command, your highness”.

  *****

  THE END

  Continue reading the love story of Maya and Sebastian below…

  Book 4:

  Protected by the Bear

  A Paranormal Romance

  Bear Caves Book 4

  Chapter 1 - Sebastian

  The cottage is damp, wood and all, and carries a distinct smell of the forest. There’s a single yellow lamp in the center of the slanting ceiling that lights up the one-bedroom space in the kind of fading light that reminds me of old newspapers. There’s a toilet in the outback, which I’m extremely grateful for as relieving myself in the wild is not exactly on my list of things to try before I die. The place exceeds my expectations, although I had none, so it wasn’t a difficult feat to achieve. I’m looking forward to not sleeping in a nylon bag while my nose freezes all night in the chilly northern wind that flows through these woods.

  I drop my bag on the floor and step out of the cabin. Dawn will be breaking soon, and even though the purpose of my visit may not be to bask in the glory of mother nature, I take that liberty from time to time. It keeps me going, it keeps me sane. Besides, my job allows it, so why the hell not?

  I pull my smartphone out of my back pocket. It hasn’t seen a single bar in three days of backpacking through these woods. The tall mountain ash trees form a canopy over my head that makes it hard for even sunlight to find its way to the ground. Although, the sky being overcast may have something to do with that too. I check the pdf file once again for the mission. The blank white space of the document mirrors how I feel about the job. There’s too little information to go on. I lift my chin up as the faintest ray of sunlight falls on my face, distracting me from the screen. The warmth of the sun is like a fleeting touch of a feather. After ten hours of traveling through the woods, the dawn finally makes the bones in my body crack from exhaustion. I squint my eyes back to the document and re-read the few lines of instructions on it; they provide no direction to my day. Where do I go next? This is the first time I find myself going in so blindly. It’s kind of thrilling. I put the phone dutifully into the back pocket of my jeans even though it’s simply a piece of plastic at this point. Still, the possibility of getting connected back to civilization again gives me hope.

  My human eyes droop as the sun crawls up, begging for the respite of sleep, but there’s too much of an artist in me, and the incomprehensible expanse of nature that’s sprawled in front of my eyes right now is tempting, almost calling me to action. I feel my fingers bristle, itching to succumb to the beauty. I call it a day as I’m sufficiently beat, and take solace in the fact that there will always be tomorrow.

  The next day, I awaken to the sound of canaries that seemed to be perched on the roof of the cottage. Can’t say that my love for nature was the strongest as I rub the sleep away from my eyes, flustered at the noisy birds. I slept for twenty-four hours straight, only waking up to use the bathroom once or twice. Now it’s morning again, and there’s a growling in my stomach that needs satiating right away.

  As I stretch my body, willing it to move despite the discomfort, I’m surprised to find that my body still aches.

  It’s a new day, a new start, I tell myself. But if I’m honest, I’m so lost that the idea of staying in the cabin and staring at the ceiling until the sky outside grows brighter then fades to dusk, finally dissolving into the night once again, seems compelling to me. Another tempting proposition for an artist like me, but I have a job to finish.

  There’s a map that I carry of the northern mountains that I’m currently traversing, but it proved to be quite unhelpful pretty early on in this trip as I slowly came to terms with my embarrassing lack of sense of direction. Hence, the piece of paper sits crumpled in my backpack.

  I brush my teeth out in the woods, taking in the landscape and the slow morning. The absence of city traffic, pollution, and the drowning sea of people make me seriously entertain the idea of traveling full time. I’m millennial enough to do so. After I’ve cleaned up, I sit quietly outside my cabin, observing the area around me, hoping to get an epiphany on how to proceed on the mission.

  Behind me is the belt of tall, leaning trees that runs for tens of miles in either direction and alongside the woods flows the river up ahead. I can hear the constant stream of running water, the unceasing sound turned to white noise after ten days of hearing it all day.

  A swift morning breeze passes by and makes the cabin door bang with a thud. I dart towards it to put the latch on when an idea occurs to me. I could go back to the old man who let me sleep in the cabin; he lives about half a mile from here. Perhaps I could get some information on where the nearest village or town might be.

  With that plan in mind, I prepare for another trek, and within ten minutes, I’m ready to head out.

  I reach the old man’s cot
tage and bang on the door because he doesn’t have an electric bell. This place seems too remote even by remote standards.

  I bang on the door once again because no one shows up. After I’ve screamed, “hello” about five times, the door finally cracks open, and the old man’s head creeps out from behind it. He’s holding onto the door with an iron grip as if protecting his house from being broken in to. It doesn’t seem to be of much use since the man is stick thin and smaller than me by a foot; he’s so frail that he could sway in the winds.

  “Hi, it’s Sebastian again,” I say, pulling the straps of my bag tighter. I’m not exactly traveling light, and I feel foolish standing in front of the old man again because I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. “You let me stay at the cabin up north,” I say, gesturing in the general direction of the cabin but most certainly getting it comically wrong.

  The man stares at me quizzically, blinking his eyes then slowly lifting his hand to point somewhere behind me. I put my hand down when I realize he’s pointing in the direction that the cabin is in.

  “Right, you remember,” I say. It might be wishful thinking that he actually remembers our encounter because, from the blank look on his face, it doesn’t seem like he remembers much of anything. I still press my luck and ask, “I’d like to know where the nearest village is.”

  I say “village” instead of “bear village” for obvious reasons. Though, it would be a bummer if the nearest village is only a human village. It’s likely that it won’t be because bear shifters either live next to the river as it follows down south and to the east or deep into the woods up north and for centuries have managed to claim that space from humans. I’m waist-deep in bear shifter area, but the old man doesn’t need to know any of this. Though chances are that he already knows if he has lived to be this age in this area.

  “A couple of miles that way,” the man struggles to speak as breath barely escapes his lungs. He points far into the distance to my right. “The terrain is not friendly, but if you’ve come this far, you should be alright. The woods are much tougher up north. To the east, it gets easier but also more lively, so you might want to be cautious of animal attacks.” I’m taken aback by this inexplicable eloquence. The man stares into my eyes for a moment, then brushes off the concern as if he knows, as if he sees what I am, who I am. It awakens something primal in me, but I can keep a good handle on it.

  “Thank you,” I say and bow my head ever so slightly. An old habit from growing up in a bear village. The information is good enough for me. There’s a sudden growl in my stomach, which makes the old man stare at me with a mix of distress and pity, and he flings the door open, inviting me in.

  He offers me a small home-cooked meal, and I feel a lot better after it. I travel back to the cabin while the sun is overhead and decide to camp at the cabin for the night and leave for the village tomorrow morning. Twilight starts to cover the horizon, and I witness it through the trees when I suddenly remember something Warren had said to me.

  “Talk to your bear. Run with it. It can be healing, it was for me.”

  I try not to scoff at the idea. I have spent a great deal of time erasing what lies beyond my human parts because that’s what was required of me to survive. In order to live, I had to bury that animal deep inside of me, and I got so good at denying its existence that I forgot for months on end that that part still lives within me. After Warren had brought up the fact that my bear still exists a few months ago, I had scoffed at him too. Then I had internally scoffed at the idea for a while longer by myself, and finally, I am here, actually contemplating the thought without shunning it as if it can single-handedly cause my demise, that by simply entertaining the thought, I will break the time and space continuum and maybe fall in the gaps. A snarky voice in my head says, “why risk that catastrophe”?

  A few minutes pass as I swirl the thought around in my mind like expensive wine. That primal part in me rears its head, slowly at first, then more aggressively. I breathe in the deep scent of the forest as I remember the intensity with which my bear form experiences life. Every experience, every movement, every single fleeting stimulus heightened to a fever pitch. I feel the frenzy rise and roar and bubble up to my throat and the warm blood spreading through my limbs. I notice that my heart is suddenly pumping blood faster. The feeling is like a drug, and I would know what that feels like.

  I drop the bag from my shoulders, not bothering to put it safely inside the cabin and run uphill towards the woods that only now seem to be swaying with the evening breeze. I feel the final sensation of the chilly wind, which reminds me that winter is almost around the corner. My quick steps fall faster and faster until there’s a loud rip of fabric that bellows through the trees, and I’m on all fours, galloping through the foliage and away from the sound of the river. I run and sprint and leap across fallen trees and potholes, my paws landing with heavy thuds that make the ground quake to the rhythm of my footfalls. I don’t remember the last time I felt such raw power. My limbs are ready to tear through anything that might get in my way, my fangs hungrily peeking through lips, and my eyes set on the mountain top. I hurtle faster and faster as I notice the sky turning darker. If I hurry, I can still make it to the sunset. That’s when I pick up speed and unleash the full force of my ferocity. I snicker as trees fly past, and I charge up the hill with impossible energy. A sad, almost defeating, realization overtakes me. My human side can never compare to this.

  I reach the top when the final rays of sunlight flicker and fade away. I heave through my lungs with my paws on the ground and watch the sun disappear at the horizon. The view is breathtaking, and I try to capture it in my mind, take a mental snapshot so I can someday replicate it on a blank canvas or something close to it. Dare I compete with the forces of nature? I would like to create something out of this beautiful moment, something that can give me the same lasting fulfillment that I feel right now. Letting the beauty around me seep in, I pour over the thought of another long day of walking through the woods until I reach the village. It immediately turns my tongue sour, so I push it to the side. I won’t let something as ethereal as thought taint the bliss of the perfect moment.

  Chapter 2 - Maya

  The bear village that I have settled in to is slowly starting to grow on me. The house that Joshua offered me to stay in is big enough for a family; my guess is that it belonged to one. The thought travels up my brain like smoke from a chimney and makes its homes there. Family. I could mull over it, and hours would go by, but it wouldn’t change anything. Then why indulge?

  I’m at the backside of the village, the part that overlooks the woods. I’ve been practicing all day. My red tunic is pouring in sweat and clings to my frame at my thighs and back. The mountain ash trees uphill are so tall that the backyard of my house is always in their shade, so it was easy to find the ground to practice martial arts. The only problem is being seen by people in the village who might get suspicious. So far, they’ve been nothing but awfully friendly. They’re too friendly for their own good, giggling and making small talk with you as if you’re harmless just because you happen to be living in the village. Kind of irresponsible, in my opinion, but they were polite enough to offer me food and clothing and shelter, so I’m not going to complain.

  My routine is almost done, and the heat is slowly taking a hold on me, the exhaustion making my head spin. I’ve become weak in the months since I’ve left home. “You’re too soft,” I can almost hear the sound of my last master, Kana, bellowing in my ears. He wasn’t polite like the people I’ve met here. “You’re weak,” I’d be told, making my spirit crack along with my bones.

  I spit dirt from my mouth and raise my leg up in a high kick, then turn around, holding both my hands in a boxing stance, readying myself to land a punch at the end of the turn. A dodge next as if I’m fighting Kana again, transported back home where survival meant you kill all the weakness inside you, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to go home with some dignity.

  Not all o
f the children back in the village had the same life that I had. Most of them weren’t picked apart and trained until they lost all wonder and curiosity and other childlike traits, but for me, that was life.

  Mid sequence, I can feel the hairs at the back of my neck stand as I hear a faint crack, a light footstep around the house. The intruder probably doesn’t realize that I’ve noticed their arrival. My back is facing the direction the sound is coming from. I kneel a little and ready my hands in the same boxing stance. I stomp my right foot lightly on the ground before I turn, and my high kick stops right at the neck of the man in front of me. If I had kept going, the man would be dead. A fact that’s probably lost on him judging from the look on his face. I had meant to scare him, but it obviously didn’t work.

  When I realize who the man is, my leg falls, and I falter backward, landing on my bottom as I lose all balance. The pain is immediate. But the horror of seeing Lee standing in front of me overtakes everything else.

  He looks down at me with anger and reverence in the same look, and I hate him for both as he presents his right hand to me as if I’ll actually accept it.

  “I don’t bite, Maya,” he says and shakes his hand, urging me to take it. He must be out of his mind to think I’ll ever do that again.

  “I know exactly how sharp the fangs are that you and your ilk carry,” I spit out. My mouth is a cannonball of hurtful words, and even though there’s something in me that’s relieved to see Lee in the flesh in front of my eyes, every other part of me is horrified and disgusted and afraid.