by Nox, Serena
When he reached the clearing, he halted, normal animal caution finally kicking in. That scent was everywhere, clinging to the air and hanging heavy in his nose making him crazy with fear and curiosity all at once. He scrambled into the surrounding woods and peered out at the scene before him.
There was a new vehicle parked by the door of the cabin. The scent hung around it, as did the scent of humans and civilization. So someone had come up from beyond the valley. The notion made him growl low in his throat. Outsiders were a threat and he wasn't one to deal with threats lightly. He stretched his claws, digging them into the ground he claimed as his own.
But still that scent was driving him crazy. He crept forward, trying to catch a glimpse through the windows.
A shadow flitted past and suddenly everything was clear to him A new human had come to care for the old woman. She was a female, that much was clear by the scent in the air, but there was something more there too. Something so compelling that the world constricted down to a pinpoint when he spied her shape. It was as if the sun had pierced the clouds and showed a ray of light directly down to guide him. Everything inside of him tumbled inward and he suddenly understood the stories of the elders.
His mate.
He was looking at his mate.
Kai sat back on his haunches in confusion. Humans were forbidden to his kind, a taboo born of necessity. It made no sense and yet there was nothing he could do.
A fated mate was undeniable.
Noelle
Even though I knew I was being ridiculous, there was still a part of me that believed I could bring my Gran back if I just tried hard enough.
My first weeks at the cabin were spent wracking my brain, trying to find that one special meal, word, trinket or song that would snap Gran out of the fog she existed in and bring her back to me. It was hopeless, but I couldn't stop dreaming of the day she would wake up from her stupor and be my Gran again for good. She had to be in there, I just had to draw her out.
I cooked her old favorites, the comfort foods she used to serve Gabby and me when my mother brought us up to visit. Shepherd's pie, chicken and dumplings, pot roasts; all the recipes from her stained cookbooks. I went back and forth to the market down at the base of the mountain several times a week to procure the ingredients.
But nothing brought her back.
After a few weeks of frenzied cheer, despair started to set in. The world outside the cabin had started to shed the stranglehold of winter, but inside the chill still hung in the air. Her brief moment of lucidity in recognizing me that first day was gone, replaced with paranoid silence. Sometimes she spoke and I would rush to her side, but the words were disjointed and made no sense to me. For about a week I tried writing down what she was saying.
...bear?...
...never leave me...
...should ?...he wasn't for this...world?...
but I abandoned that project in frustration when I couldn't make sense of what she was saying.
It was the misfiring of a diseased brain, nothing more.
The hopelessness that set in was in direct contrast to the beauty around me. The mountains were waking up again, and with them, the birds. On one especially bright morning, I spied a robin in a birch tree flitting from branch to branch outside of the kitchen window. The bird seemed to be considering carefully, and after a while settled on her choice. As I watched, fascinated, the robin started building her nest, flickering back and forth amidst the trees as she gathers twigs and grasses. Her busy industry made me feel indolent and I turned away restlessly.
As I shuffled about the cabin, the bright sun pierced the thick windows, sending shafts of light into the gloom. Dust motes danced crazily in the beams. I suddenly felt that same frenzied need for movement that I saw in those dancing glints and that busy bird.
I needed to get out.
My Gran was asleep, her favorite pastime as of late. Her jaw was hanging open and she was breathing easily and deeply.
I stepped lightly to the front door and grabbed my snow jacket. Stepping out onto the porch, I felt the bright sunshine hit my face. The air felt softer and warmer as a gentle breeze picked up my hair in a sweet caress.
As I inhaled deeply, I could smell the world waking up around me. The deep, rich scent of fertile earth, the piney sap of the evergreens and all around me the heady, lung-bursting smell of the chlorophyll awakening in the trees. It was that magical pause in the seasons, just before the world is fully awake, as the grip of winter eases until it is gone.
I felt so buoyant that I just had to move. Bounding down the steps, I sprang into the muddy earth, which up until a day ago was still frozen solid. Now it had a slight, mushy spring to it and my toes bounced lightly as I tripped across the field and towards the surrounding woods.
I knew these woods. Gabby and I had scoured the land surrounding our grandparents' cabin, ranging far and free.
Though there were no actual trails around the mountain, it was easy to follow the treeline as a guide. My shoes were in no shape for a big hike, but nothing was stopping me from just getting a little exercise.
I set out, keeping the sun on my left shoulder. I had always had an almost eerie sense of direction. Gabby learned to trust my judgment when we'd go out to play, because no matter how far we roamed, I always brought us safely back home again. Those skills had atrophied somewhat from living beyond the valley, but now that I was back in the woods again, I felt those instincts rushing back to keep me safe.
"Hey bear," I called, clapping my hands. 'Hey bear, hey bear."
Springtime meant the bears were waking up again. The cubs would be small and weak, and the mothers would be fiercely protective. The males would be crazed with the need to mate and I was wandering right into their territory. I knew that the worst thing I could do was to startle one, so I sang out loudly, clapping my hands at intervals as I walked over the uneven earth.
"Hey there beary-bear!" I sang, scanning the trees for movement.
But I was alone in the woods. Just me and the liquid trilling of birdcalls.
As I walked, the light breeze puffed against my face, blowing away the cobwebs and staleness in my mind. I patted a boulder as I walked by, the one that Gabby and I had scrambled to the top of a million times before, playing King of the Mountain in our own private forest. I spotted the charred stump of the tree that had been felled by lightning over a decade ago and smiled to see that the two broken points still looked like cat ears. I knelt down and stared at it, remembering how Gabby and I had spent a day convinced it was a stump-cat about to come to life. The woods were suffused in emotions and memory, taking me back to happier times. I fell quiet, lost in my reverie.
And that's why I didn't notice the bear until I was nearly on top of him.
It was the biggest black bear I had ever seen. He moved like a massive chunk of the mountain itself, as dark as a shadow. The blackness of his fur was total, a true absence of light. Only his eyes blazed brightly at me, like amber fire, as we both froze and stared each other down.
My heart thumped wildly as I tried to swallow down the bright, coppery taste of panic that gathered in my throat. "Go away," I called, unzipping my jacket and spreading it out to appear larger. "Go on now, go away."
The bear looked back at me, unmoved. If I ran, it would chase me down, I could feel it. My only hope was to drive it off.
I stamped my foot on the ground so it would feel the vibrations. "Get out of here, bear!" I shouted, much louder. "Go away and leave me alone!"
The bear took a step forwards and I screamed. "Go on now, you're scaring me!"
Instantly the bear froze. He ducked his head as he backed up.
I stared at the bear uncomprehendingly. Had he understood me? That was crazy talk, and yet the instant I said I was scared, he had backed away. "That's it," I encouraged. "Go back to your den, there's no food up here yet anyway."
The bear ducked his head again, almost like he was nodding. Like he was agreeing with me.
I
stared at him, awestruck and suddenly I didn't want him to go. Maybe it was the days spent talking to Gran and getting to no response in return. But I suddenly wanted to talk to this bear some more.
"I'm sorry I yelled," I said, feeling stupid. "Thanks."
My brain was screaming at me to stop. This was the dumbest thing I had ever done. The bear paused and looked at me again. "You seem like you want to say something," I said,, hearing mania in my voice."You can talk to me if you want." My brain shrieked in protest as I said that, but I still yammered on, "God knows I could use someone to talk to. Especially someone who understands me."
I don't know what I was expecting. In that moment I could almost imagine that dangerous, wild bear opening his mouth and letting human words tumble out. There was so much behind those amber eyes, so much more intelligence and empathy than I had ever understood in an animal before. This was the closest I had ever been to a bear in my life and the thrill of it was making me crave even closer contact.
But he was backing away, disappearing slowly over a small rise. His amber eyes were still fixed on me, his huge head bowed in that strange posturing of understanding. I felt my hand lift up of its own accord, wanting to reach out and halt his retreat, but he was already over the hill.
And I was alone once more.
The magic of the woods seemed to dissipate the moment the bear disappeared and suddenly I couldn't stand being alone any more. I turned and trotted back where I had came, my unerring sense of direction leading me right back to the cabin and my self-imposed isolation.
Kai
Kai sat back on his haunches in confusion. A fated mate was undeniable, but he couldn't understand why she was his.
The only thing he knew to do was run.
Kai thundered through the woods, his four paws covering the miles like they were nothing. He needed to get back to the den, back where he could shift in safety and speak in his human voice to those who understood.
When he had first caught her scent on the breeze, he thought he could tell everything he knew about her. But that moment of eye-to-eye contact had shaken him to his very core. Actually seeing her and hearing her lilting voice as she addressed him without fear had nearly made him shift right in front of her eyes and reveal himself. He had almost broken the taboo right then and there.
A branch tangled in his black fur as he careened down the side of the mountain, ripping out a big chunk. But Kai didn't slow or pause to lick his wound. It was too important that he get back to his den.
The huge den of the Bear Valley Clan was hidden from view by a large fallen boulder. He skirted around the rock and skidded to a halt at the mouth of the cave.
An unfamiliar bear was there, and in his headlong rush he hadn't recognized the dangerous scent until right now.
He roared and stood up on his hind legs, issuing the challenge instantly. He was alpha of this clan, and he would strike down this intruder for daring to trespass in his territory.
Instantly the air around the strange bear began to shimmer. The vibrations concentrated down to a pinpoint and suddenly a man, broad and tall and completely naked stood before Kai's claws.
"I am Mathe, of the Falls Creek Clan. Stand down, Kai."
Kai growled low in his throat but complied. He pulled back on his bear, constricting himself inside of himself until he stepped forward in his human form and grasped hands with the peace ambassador.
"I am glad you are here, Mathe," Kai said, assessing the newcomer with a quick sweep of his eyes. "I apologize for not recognizing your bear form."
The ambassador laughed and Kai watched him carefully. The two of them were evenly matched in strength and size, but it was clear that Mathe was no alpha. Kai bristled at the insult that the Falls Creek Clan had shown him by sending a shifter to negotiate that was not his equal.
But that insult would be addressed later. For now the rules of hospitality must be observed.
Mathe nodded his head, still considering Kai's greeting. "It is understandable, instincts and all. My clan prefers to speak all communication, rather than use the telepathic link, will that be all right with you?"
Kai bristled again. "Then we would be starting without the assumption of trust." The telepathic link between bear shifters was a necessity in his eyes. Words could be untrue, but feelings never were.
"I understand," Mathe said, empathy showing in his pale eyes, and suddenly Kai understood why this bear had been sent for the talks. He was an omega, the emotional link. He played an integral role in the health and well-being of any healthy clan.
The last omega of the Bear Valley Clan had died over forty years ago. And with his passing, the clan had slowly fallen apart over the years. The old alpha renounced his bearhood not long after omega's death, choosing human life and turning his back on his clan. His heir had retreated to the shadows, brooding and resentful and unfit to assume the alpha's role. Kai had been a yearling then, too young to truly understand the duties of the alpha, but he saw where he was needed. By the time he had fully grown into the role, his clan had dwindled down to a hardy few: Faron, his beta and best friend, old, surly Lorn, the young twins Keir and Lew who still stuck close to their mother Ayla in spite of being near mating age, Dov, his resentful rival, and sickly Turi who still pined for his mate ten years after her death.
They were too small. There was only one female among them, and Ayla had refused to breed while she was raising Keir and Lew. Faron was of mating age, but with no females in the clan, he spent his days frustrated, sparring with the twins and hunting down game for the clan to share. Lorn had never mated, a taboo that would have had him kicked out of a larger clan, but Kai couldn't afford to lose anyone. Including Dov. As happy as it would have made him to send the confrontational and bitter would-be-alpha off to attempt to start his own clan, the fact remained that he couldn't afford to lose a strong, seasoned hunter. And he couldn't afford to have Dov attempting to poach his own clanmates. He needed to grow his numbers, not shrink them.
And that was where the idea of merging with the Falls Creek Clan has arisen.
Their ranges overlapped, the border changing with the Pechin river which twisted and turned and changed its bed several times a season. The bears of the Falls were much more human, often sending their young into the valley to blend in with the humans and learn their ways. Though he abhorred those kind of concessions on principle, Kai had to be pragmatic. Without new blood, his clan faced extinction and with it a line that went back for centuries in these peaks. He would not let them die out on his watch.
Most importantly, the Falls Creek Clan had females of breeding age. That was the driving force behind the peace talks he had demanded. He had forced Marrok, the alpha of the Falls Creek Clan to begin the merger, though the old bear had been suspicious and unwilling. But Kai had stood firm. The price he demanded for foraging on his land after the fire was to give him their land as well.
It was a triumph of his strategy as an alpha, and Kai should have been proud.
But even as he considered the future, his mind wandered back up the peak to that human in the woods.
She was his mate; there was no denying that pull. But taking humans as mates was taboo, ever since old Gray had lost himself to humanity and abandoned the clan. Was he following in the old alpha's treacherous footsteps?
Kai shook his head. No, he was not. He was better than his predecessor. He was a true leader, concerned with the future of his clan and with growing and expanding their territory. He would forget that human woman and mate with a bear. That was his destiny as a true alpha.
The breeze played gently with his hair as he and Mathe descended into the massive den. The scent of his mate called to him again, following him deep into the cavern, unwilling to be ignored.
After he settled Mathe into the guest den, Kai eyed the old human clothes that lay bundled in the corner of his own quarters. He didn't dare let his thoughts stray on them for too long. Faron would sense his feelings through the telepathic link and then all woul
d be lost. Dov was always sniffing at his heels, waiting for some misstep to foment rebellion. And he needed to watch himself around Mathe too. As a trained omega, the ambassador would surely be able to discern his deepest desires with ease.
Instead Kai took the old clothes and rolled them up into a pillow to rest his head on while he dreamed of his lost mate.
Noelle
"What was that Gran?" I ran to my grandmother excitedly.
"Ellie, you're Ellie," she repeated, her normally creaking voice strong and commanding.
I knelt before her and took her withered hands into mine, clasping them tightly but careful not to hurt her. "That's right, Granny, I'm Noelle. I'm your little Elliebelle."
Her pale eyes were staring right at me with more lucidity that I had seen in weeks. "You need to watch yourself, Ellie," she chastened me.
I pressed my lips together. After weeks of waiting on her hand and foot, this was certainly not the conversation I expected us to be having. "Why is that, Gran?"
"Because the bears want you. And when bears want you, there is no way you can say no."
I settled back onto my heels, disappointment flooding through me. She wasn't lucid at all. She was still locked in her fantasy world. "Okay Granny," I sighed. "I'll watch out."
I made to stand up, but she clutched my hand to her chest fiercely, her long fingernails digging into my wrist like claws. "You're a bear!" she practically screamed. "I am telling you!" Then she suddenly crumpled, her head falling down to her chest as her frail shoulders heaved up and down, wracked with sobs. "I loved him," she moaned, "but I wasn't enough."
I felt tears prick at my own eyes. "Gran, are you talking about Pa?"
"He promised me," she sniffled, "and I believed him. Because an alpha keeps his word, that's what he told me, dammit." Her eyes blazed with sudden anger. "I am still waiting for him. I kept my goddamn word. What about him?"