Shifters Gone Wild; Collection

by Skye MacKinnon

  “Yeah.” He shrugs, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world.

  “And… you won’t eat me?”

  He stares at me, his eyes laughing, then his mouth follows. He roars with laughter.

  “So that’s what it’s all about? You think we’re going to eat you? Sorry, girl, despite your curves you’re not quite enough to satisfy a bear’s hunger.” I breathe a sigh of relief until he says, “At least not that appetite.”

  He shoots me a wolfish - bearish? - grin and I feel myself blush. What is it with these guys and me blushing? It’s not like I haven’t been around men. In fact, with so few girls my age living on Salvation Island, I spent most of my time with boys. But, none of them were this… intense. Huge. Scary. Hot. No, brain, unthink that. Not hot. I don’t think like that. I’m not that kind of girl. Now stop drooling.

  Finn is the first to return, carrying a dripping towel. He gently lays it on my ankle. Cold pours through the fluffy fabric, and I can feel it soothe my pain almost instantly. The pain I had almost forgotten with all this talk of bears and appetites.

  “Is that better?” Finn asks.

  “So much,” I say, but it comes out as a slight moan.

  The two brothers step into the room, instantly making it feel crammed. While they sit down around the fire, Torben stabilises my ankle by squeezing it between two planks of wood, around which he wraps the bandages. Once he’s done, he puts the melting snow-towel back on top.

  “How is the pain?”

  “Much better, the ice is helping.”

  “Good. Let’s talk.”

  He sits down right next to me; I can feel the heat emanating from his body. Must be a bear thing.

  We’re all sitting in silence. I’m waiting for Torben to start talking, but he’s just looking into the flames. I can’t stand the silence. I need answers.

  “So, you’re bears. How does that work? How can you be humans and bears? You are human, right?”

  Húnn chuckles. “We’re shifters, sweetie. We can switch between two forms. In our case, bears. We-”

  “There are other animals? Like werewolves?”

  Finn sighs. “Yes, like werewolves. Why do all stories have to be about wolves? They’re a minority, but for some reason they get all the PR.”

  “It’s better that way,” Torben says. “It’s hard enough keeping it a secret without humans suspecting there to be other shifters.”

  Ràn grumbles something, and I can see his muscles tremble under his tight t-shirt.

  “Go, we can manage,” Torben orders. Ràn nods and hurriedly steps out of the cabin. Torben has to be the leader of this pack. Wait, do bears form a pack? No, I remember, it’s called something different. A sleuth. I remember because I thought it said ‘sloth’ the first time I read it.

  When the door falls shut, I think I can hear a roar outside. But maybe it’s just the wind.

  “Did he just shift?” I dare to ask, hoping that I’m wrong. Somehow I still can’t imagine this being real.

  “Aye. It’s winter, and winter is hibernation time,” Torben said. “Our bears fight to be let out. Shifters don’t need to sleep all winter, but our bears are the dominant form during this time. It’s hard to stay human for more than a few hours at a time. I’m surprised Ràn managed it this long.”

  “How long until he can shift back?”

  “A few hours, give or take. If he shifts back too soon, he won’t be able to stay human for long. That’s why we can’t all be with you at the same time. We’re going to take shifts so there’s always one of us around.”

  “I can manage on my own, you don’t need to do that. I’m an adult.”

  “Not after the stunt you pulled earlier,” he scoffs. “I don’t want you to break anything else. You’re human, you’re fragile.”

  “Not everybody can be a giant teddy bear.”

  “Did you just…” He starts laughing, and the others join him. Finn has the cheeriest laugh, like little bells on top of the deep throaty laughter of the others.

  “Finn, Húnn, show her what teddy bears look like,” he commands, and the two guys nod and get up. Finn starts to meddle with the button on his jeans and my eyes grow wide. He’s not going to strip in front of me, right? Luckily Torben agrees. “Do that outside, you don’t need to scare our guest any further.”

  Húnn flexes his muscles and grins. “You sure this would scare her?”

  “Out!” Torben says, but his voice carries a trace of humour. With a suggestive grin from Húnn, they step out of the cabin, letting a swoosh of cold air, mixed with tiny snowflakes, into the room. Suddenly a fur is dragged across my shoulders. I look up and see Torben, wrapping it expertly around me. Maybe he was the caterpillar creator? The fur is soft and cuddly - will the bears feel the same way?

  Something pushes against the door, and Torben gets up to open it. A giant golden snout approaches, followed by a beautiful furry body. The bear’s fur is almost the same colour as Finn’s blond hair, so I assume this is him. I try and get up, but Torben stops me by scooping me up into his arms. These guys really need to stop doing that. He positions me so I’m sitting with my back against his chest, his hands grabbing my thighs. I’m ignoring how good that feels.

  He walks us outside - the bears wouldn’t fit through the door frame. It’s freezing, but luckily I still have the fur around my shoulders. And Torben makes a very good heat source as well.

  Three massive bears are waiting for us outside the cabin. I’ve never seen a real bear before, but somehow I think they must be smaller than these three. The golden one - Finn - is slightly smaller than the dark brown ones next to him. They approach until hot bear breath reaches my face. I stretch out a hand to pet the almost black one, but he shrinks back.

  “Ràn doesn’t like to be touched when he’s in his bear skin,” Torben whispers into my ear. That throws up a whole load of questions, but when Finn presses his golden head against my hand, they disappear. His fur is much softer than I had imagined. I run my hand through the longer strands around his neck. He growls softly, reminding me of the purring of a cat. His large brown eyes are looking at me curiously.

  Without warning, he steps back and licks my hand. Ewwww. Before I can tell him off, he turns and runs into the forest, followed by the two brothers. Snow is thrown into the air where their big paws meet the ground. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than these bears, playfully bumping against each other on the way into the trees.

  After they have disappeared, Torben carries me back inside and carefully sets me down on the furs. This seems to have become my seat.

  He puts a few logs on the fire and sits down next to me. We both look into the flames, watching as the fire takes hold of the new wood.

  “A long time ago, Scotland used to be our home,” Torben begins without warning, his voice distant. “Hundreds of bear shifters lived all over the Highlands; some in secret, some in villages with humans. Then, a thousand years ago, this changed. Bears went extinct in this country. No one knows why, but I think it’s likely they were hunted until there were none left. This left the bear shifters in a dilemma. It was their home, but humans would notice if they continued to see bears running around. So they left. Most went to Scandinavia and made themselves a new home. Like my ancestors. But for some reason, it didn’t work out. Fewer and fewer shifter cubs were born, and our population grew smaller. By the time of the Drowning, there were only a few dozen left. We heard our cousins in Canada didn’t fare any better.

  “The Drowning destroyed our villages. Some of us moved further into the mountains, leaving behind the fjords that got overwhelmed by the sea. After a while, my sleuth and I decided we didn’t want to stay. So we came to Scotland, to see the lands our ancestors had roamed. Of course, it looked different back then. Green hills instead of the ocean, rugged peaks instead of islands. We travelled from island to island, looking for traces of anything that would tell us where the bear shifters would have lived. But time and the Drowning have e
rased most of the evidence. We wandered for a long time, until we met a family, living on their own on a tiny island that would have once been part of the Isle of Skye on the West coast. They told us of a place called Coire nam Brach, the Corrie of Bears. A mountain turned into an island. We didn’t find anything, but now that we had found one Gaelic place name related to bears, we had a new aim. I was surprised how many people here still speak Gaelic.”

  “My mother was fluent in it,” I interrupt. “But she never got the chance to teach me.”

  Torben waits for a moment, but when I don’t say anything else, he continues.

  “We found a cave on Lag nam Brach, meaning Bear’s Hollow, half flooded, which looked like shifters had once lived in it. And finally, we heard about Inchbrach, Bear Island. We’ve been here for a few months now, looking for clues. Not that I have much hope, not after all the other failed attempts. And we don’t even know if this is the right island. It’s not like there are proper maps of Scotland post-Drowning. But winter arrived, so we decided to stay for now.”

  “Why don’t you stay in your bear form all the time during winter? Wouldn’t it be easier?”

  “When we let our bears out… it changes us. Makes us more feral, wild, driven by instincts. The longer we stay bears, the less human we become.”

  “Oh.” That’s all my brain lets me come up with.

  We sit there quietly after that, staring into the fire. While the warmth is comfortable, my ankle starts playing up again. When I try to move my leg further away from the fire and wince in the process, Torben immediately gets up and goes outside, returning with more snow. My previous ice pack melted a while ago - probably not a good idea to use it next to a fire.

  “Let’s get you more comfortable,” Torben says softly, and I look up at him, surprised by the gentleness in his voice. Maybe this bear can be cuddly after all. “Do you want to sleep down here or on the mattress upstairs?”

  “I’d choose upstairs, but I don’t think I’ll get up the ladder with my ankle…”

  “If you want to sleep in the attic, you’ll sleep in the attic. Don’t worry, we’ll get you there.”

  He carefully lifts me up; his strong arms slipping under my knees and my shoulders. I shiver a little at his touch. I’m not used to being touched this much, but I’m beginning to like it. He presses me against his chest and I can smell him. Pine trees, snow, a hint of woodruff. I don’t know how bears smell, but I imagined it to be different from this masculine, delicious scent. Did I say delicious? Didn’t mean it, promise.

  When we reach the ladder, he shifts me until I sit on his back, my injured ankle in front of him where he can see it. I’m amazed at how considerate he is. Rung by rung, we ascend the ladder. When we reach the hole in the ceiling that leads to the attic, Torben uses one hand to carefully bend my leg to keep my ankle from bumping against the wood.

  Finally, I’m on the bed. My ankle is burning now. Torben readjusts the snow pack, but it isn’t helping as much as before. Maybe it was a bad idea to climb up here. Why did I want to sleep upstairs again? Oh yes, having some privacy away from the men. Which makes sense. Did make sense. But now it’s painful.

  Torben is sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the mattress. My hands are itching to add more braids into his pale blond hair. He really rocks the Viking look. All he needs now is an axe and a longboat. That makes me think, how did they get to the island? Do they have a boat somewhere? Or did they swim as bears?

  Finally the pain in my ankle lessens a little. On the downside, the cold of the snow has started to make me shiver. The thin blanket Torben put over me isn’t enough to keep out the cold air up here. A fire would be nice. By now I’m totally regretting my decision. Give me warmth over privacy any time.

  “You’re shivering.” Torben has turned around and is looking at me. That fold between his eyes has returned. “I’ll get you some furs.”

  While he climbs down the ladder, I drag the blanket around me, trying to get more warmth from it. Worst. Decision. Ever. In a way, though, it’s his fault, too. He didn’t have to listen to my bad ideas. By the way, isn’t he going to have to shift soon? He’s been human for quite a while now, and if it’s true what he said, it can’t be comfortable to force himself to stay in this form for long.

  Torben’s head pops up in the opening. “Húnn will be coming soon to stay with us.”

  “How did you… is he downstairs?”

  “We can communicate telepathically when we’re in our bear forms.”

  Of course they can. Silly me.

  “So did you just shift when you were downstairs?” I ask.

  “No. As the sleuth leader, I can do some basic communication with the others while I’m human.”

  That’s pretty neat. Although, not sure I’d want to be able to be contacted by my sleuth leader when I was running around free as a bear. Privacy and all that. But I don’t think these bears seem to have a concept of that. I mean, they only have one bed. How do they usually sleep?

  “Don’t you have to shift soon?”

  “I’ll manage for a bit longer while we’re waiting for Húnn.” His body is tense, and that crease on his forehead is getting more pronounced. “Here are your furs, let’s try and get you warm.” He’s deflecting, but as long as I get warm and he won’t turn into a bear and eat me, I don’t care. I’m still shivering. He wraps the furs around me, careful not to touch my ankle.

  “I’ve also asked Húnn to get us some more snow.”

  “Is that really necessary? I’m so cold.”

  “You know what? Let’s break the rules.” And with that, he tears off his shirt. Wow. I didn’t expect that. And I’m not quite sure what to think of it. What is he planning? It’s nice of him to give me this view - he’s not as broad-shouldered as Ràn, but his chest is more toned and refined. I could count his abs, if I wanted. Which I don’t. When he removes his belt and fiddles with the button on his jeans, I look away. It’s better for my sanity. Even though he’s getting naked while I’m lying defenceless in bed, I don’t feel scared. Maybe I should. But somehow I trust him.

  Torben groans, and I decide to turn my head back.

  There’s a bear in the room. And not just any bear. A freaking polar bear. Seriously? Of course, Torben had to be special. He’s just as big as the other bears. Long white fur covers his body, turning into a pale yellow towards his legs… ehm… paws. His dark eyes look at me expectantly. Is he waiting for me to freak out? I won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I lift myself up and stretch out a hand. He just looks at me, but I keep my hand in the air. Slowly, he steps forward and puts his black nose just under my fingers, without touching me. I can feel hot breath against my skin. He sniffs the air, and for some reason I feel a little embarrassed. No one has ever sniffed me before. Finally, his nose touches my hand. It’s not as wet as it looked, but warm, soft skin. His fur isn’t as soft as Finn’s was, but it’s not rough either. I run my fingers through the fur on his head, and he leans towards me, encouraging me to do more. When I scratch between his ears, he suddenly grumbles and I almost jump out of bed. The bear - Torben - shakes his large head at me, then places his head beneath my hand again. Apparently, grumbling means that he likes it. I wonder what sounds he makes if he doesn’t like it.

  His fur is warm, and the skin underneath is even warmer. In a way, this counteracts the cold that is flowing up my leg. Now that I think of it, I shiver. Torben notices. He turns and suddenly hundreds of pounds of polar bear are lying next to me. He shifts until part of his body is lying on the mattress. I’ve got a polar bear in my bed. Didn’t think I’d ever get to say that. A very warm, soft, cosy polar bear. Already half asleep, I snuggle against him. His chest is vibrating with every slow breath. A lullaby, of sorts.

  Chapter 4

  I wake to the sound of the howling wind. It sounds cold and I snuggle against the warm pillow next to me. Let’s not leave the bed today. It’s nice and warm in here, and comfortable and-

  The pillow mov
es. I scream and open my eyes.

  Blue, sleepy eyes are looking at me. “Nightmare?”

  Ehm, no, there’s someone in my bed. A talking pillow. Also known as Torben. And I’m snuggling him. And he’s warm because… Oh no. I can feel his skin. He’s naked! Now I remember, him lying next to me as a bear. He must have shifted at some point during the night. This isn’t real. I’m not in bed with a naked man. Then I notice I’m still cuddling him, my left arm wrapped around his chest and my legs dangerously close to his. His skin on mine. His warmth going all the way up to my h… No. I roll away from him, forgetting that I have an injured ankle. I yelp, moaning in pain.

  Torben turns around, letting cool air at my bear-warmed skin.

  “Are you ok?”

  “It’s just my ankle, I moved a little too fast.”

  “Trying to get away from me?”

  Oh no, he can read my mind. A mind that is totally not used to being this close to a man. In our community, once we reach the age of twelve, we’re not allowed to spend time alone with boys. And with only two other girls around my age, that meant I spent a lot of time on my own. Sharing a bed with a man is something new… not sure yet if it’s a good new or bad new.

  He’s looking at me expectantly. I need to come up with something to say.

  “Where do you have your longboat stashed?” Ok, maybe that was the wrong thing to say. He’ll think I’m crazy.

  “Longboat? Why would you think we have a longboat?”

  “Ehm…” I mumble something incoherent about Vikings. Torben lets out a grumbling laugh.

  “Just because we’re from Scandinavia doesn’t mean we’re Vikings.”

  “But… you look like one.” There it is. Drown me in embarrassment.

  He laughs even harder. “You really think I look like a Viking?”

  “Well, you’ve got the beard, and the hair, and the…”

  “The what?”

  The body! Instead, I say something stupid like, “The voice.”

  “So I don’t just look like a Viking, I also sound like a Viking?” By now I’m afraid he’s not getting enough oxygen from all the laughing. His pale cheeks have turned red; I like it.