“Ràn!” I shout, turning around, my elbow flying into his chest. Oops.
He feels around - squeezing my right breast in the process, but I’m trying not to think about that - and then settles on my belly. What a troll.
“Sorry,” he grumble-whispers in the quietest voice he seems to be able to do. I’m sure that everyone in the room heard him. Yes, they did. Finn starts snorting again.
“Shut up, all of you,” I complain. Boys.
At least it’s warm. I focus on the warmth, ignoring the fact that it comes from lying in between two half-naked men. I snuggle into the warmness, my exhausted mind slowing down a little. Half-asleep, I grab onto something to cuddle with.
And then I finally sleep.
* * *
When I wake up, the first thing I do is feel around me for men. I’m in luck, this time I’m alone under the fur-covered blanket. Good. I know many girls would think the opposite, but I’ve had enough of guys for a while, thank you very much.
I yawn and stretch, looking around the room. I’m alone with the fire, reduced to a few flames dancing on glowing red coals.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
A shattering sound comes from the kitchen, then the door opens, a grinning Finn behind it.
“Hey sleepy-honey!”
“Sleepy-honey? Really?”
“Well, you’re sweet as honey, and your eyes are still half closed, so I think it’s an accurate description.” He shoots me a cheeky grin. I shake my head in denial. What have I got myself into?
“Torben!” He shouts towards the kitchen. I hear a muffled shout back; it sounds like its coming from the attic. A thump comes from the other room, then Torben steps into the room - fully clothed, luckily.
“The others are on the way. We’re going to have a chat.”
“What about?”
He stares at me. “Are you seriously asking that?”
I shrug. Luckily I don’t have to come up with an answer, because the bear brothers arrive. I avert my eyes as they grab their trousers from the floor. When I look up again, they’re standing in front of us, looking like schoolboys caught doing something naughty behind the teacher’s back.
“What do you say?” Torben stares them down until they both look at the floor, their heads hanging in shame.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
“Louder!”
“We’re sorry.”
“I’m disappointed in you both. I thought you had your tempers under control - what if one of you had hit Isla? What if you had crashed her against the wall? She’s human, for bear’s sake! She’s fragile!”
“He dropped her,” Ràn growls. All eyes turn to Húnn, who’s looking down at the ground, his brows pulled together in a guilty frown.
“He did what?” Torben’s voice is low, dangerous. A stalking predator staring down his prey.
“Only after you shifted and charged!” Húnn says quietly.
“Because you banged her against the door frame!” I’ve never heard Ràn say this many words in one go. He must really be upset.
“It was an accident,” Húnn mumbles, still looking at the floor.
“Whatever happened, you do not shift in the presence of a human, especially not inside the house!” Torben thunders. “You could have killed her!”
Now Ràn is hanging his head in shame as well. Finn looks uncomfortable, even though he wasn’t involved at all.
I feel like I have to get involved to prevent Torben from ripping them apart. “It’s ok, nothing happened. It was actually quite cool, watching them fight.”
“You call them biting each other bloody ‘cool’?” Torben asks icily.
Now it’s my turn to look ashamed. “No, of course not. I just… can we just forget it and move on?”
“No, we can’t,” he snaps. “You could have died, and I wasn’t there to…” His voice falters. He turns and storms out of the cabin, the door crashing shut behind him.
“So,” Finn murmurs. “How about a game?”
* * *
Drunk bears are fun bears. A drunk human girl is not so much fun. At least not for the girl. My head is foggy and my mouth seems to grin a lot. Compared to the guys I’ve not even drunk all that much, but I’m not used to alcohol. And they seem to be. They drink it as if it’s water. And make fun of little drunk me in the process.
The bottle stops pointing at Finn. “Dare.”
Húnn grins. “Lift Isla over your head.”
“No,” I protest, but Finn has already jumped up - without the slightest stagger despite half a dozen empty bottles behind him - and lifts me in his arms. I squeal, trying to escape his grip. He’s hugging me close to his chest, his breath tickling my throat. “Don’t struggle, or you’ll hurt yourself,” he whispers with a wicked smile. I glare at him. If he hurts my ankle I’m going to kill him. Or get one of the others to do it.
Finn adjusts his grip, then I’m lifted, the ceiling coming closer. I scream as he seems to drop me for a second, but he just laughs; apparently, that was his idea of a joke. So not funny. My heart is racing. I don’t like heights.
“Let me down, you big hairy bigfoot!”
He laughs even harder, and I can feel the vibrations flowing through his arms into my body. “You want to get down?”
“Yes!”
“No problem.” I’m falling. Except that somehow he’s still holding me. I can’t believe this. He’s so dead.
“If you don’t let go of me this very moment…” He drops me the last few inches onto the floor. “Shit! You evil, evil bastard!”
My hand flies to my mouth, and I look around, panicked. Húnn and Ràn stare at me.
“Did she just…?”
“I think she did!”
“Maybe there’s hope for her yet.”
No. I don’t swear. I’m not allowed to. Who swears, lies. Who lies will be punished.
“Say it again, sweetie,” Húnn begs.
“Shit,” I whisper.
Ràn comes over and pulls my hand away from my face. “Again.”
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Shit! SHIT!” What started as a whisper ends in a jubilant shout.
Finn grabs me and suddenly I’m in the air again, being whirled around in his arms. So much more fun than being lifted over his head.
“Shit, shit, shi-iii-iit,” we chant. When Finn moves us towards Ràn, I reach out a hand to pull Ràn towards us, but he is too heavy, and with a cheeky grin, he pulls and I’m not letting go, dragging Finn with me until both of us end up lying on top of both of Ràn. I can feel Ràn’s chest grumbling in laughter, while Finn continues to chant from above me.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Oh, oh. Torben is back.
* * *
The guys are in the kitchen, arguing, while I look after the fish sizzling over the fire. Finally, a job I can do despite my injured ankle. I breathe in the buttery aroma of the fish. Hopefully they’re done arguing soon so I can get some food. On the other hand, what’s stopping me from starting without them? I take a fork and drag one of the smaller pieces onto a plate. Yummy. Delicious. Magnificent.
By the time I’ve devoured two more pieces, the voices from the kitchen have quieted down. They’re no longer arguing, just talking.
“We need to make plans soon about where to go next,” Torben says. “Spring is coming, and I don’t want to waste more time on this island. We’ve not found anything here, and I don’t believe we will. As soon as the ice thaws we can swim to the next island on the list.”
“The small one up north?” Húnn asks.
“Aye. It’ll mean a few days of swimming to avoid the settled islands, but it’s better than staying here.”
Swimming. They’re planning to swim away. I can’t swim in freezing water, I’m not a shifter. That means they’ll leave without me. Suddenly the fish tastes dry and sad.
I topple the grill and the fish drops into the fire.
It burns, just like the feelings that had just
begun to sprout in my heart.
Chapter 5
I wake because the ground under me moves. The Wind is howling outside, and an icy draught kisses my cheek. There’s a low rumble all around me. I sit up in the darkness. I’m in the attic, lying by myself on the simple mattress.
Something creaks above me. Is someone walking on the roof?
“Hello?”
Only the roaring wind answers. I get up, careful not to put any weight on my ankle, and jump on one leg until I reach the small skylight. I can’t see anything; it’s covered by a deep layer of snow. The roof groans again, the wood making noises that don’t sound very reassuring. Is this place safe?
The cold draught makes me shiver, and I limp-follow it to the other side of the attic. No wonder it’s so cold. A small hole in the roof gives me a view of the snow storm raging outside. Thick snowflakes are catapulted through the air, twisting and turning as they’re thrown around by the wind. It’s loud out there, much louder than I thought a storm could be.
Something explodes besides me and I scream.
“Isla?” A voice calls from far away.
It’s suddenly very cold. Something is running down my cheek. I turn and see the window lying on the floor. What’s left of it, anyway. It’s broken into a thousand pieces, letting in the snow and the wind. Wood splinters are scattered around it, and one side of the wooden frame is dangling down from the ceiling.
“Isla, are you alright?” Torben is climbing up the ladder, a torch in his hand, quickly scanning the room for a threat. A second later, he’s by my side.
“You’re bleeding. Wait, don’t touch it, there may still be a splinter inside.” He shines the light of the torch into my face, and I blink. His warm fingers gently probe my cheek.
“It’s only a scratch, but we should put some disinfectant on it,” he says, his eyes as warm as his fingers.
He helps me to the ladder, then lets me climb on his back. This being carried around by guys is becoming a habit. I’m not sure I dislike it. Torben is warm, hot almost, and I snuggle against him. When we reach the ground floor, the roof creaks again. It’s as if the house is shuddering in the cold. It’s groaning in pain.
“We need to get out of this place,” Torben says, his voice tinged with worry. Something crashes to the floor above us. He closes his eyes for a moment, concentrating. When he opens them again, there’s a flicker of bright blue in them, gone a second later.
“Finn will be here in a moment. Let’s get you some warmer clothes.”
He sits me down by the glowing coals in the living room, leaving his hands on my shoulders for a moment longer than necessary, then turns away and climbs up into the attic again. There’s another crashing sound from above, and dust floats down from the ceiling. I can hear Torben swear, and I’m quite glad I can’t make out the words.
A moment later, he’s back, his shoulders and back covered in snow. He hands me a hoodie, far too big for me, but better than the thin sweater I’m wearing. It smells like one of the boys… Húnn, I think.
“Let’s go.” Without warning, Torben picks me up and carries me - bridal style - outside. A large golden bear is waiting for us. Finn.
Somehow I expected riding a bear to be fun. To be exciting, thrilling. But it’s nothing of the sort. It’s cold, uncomfortable, hard to stay on. My fingers are freezing and I’m having trouble clinging to his fur while he’s running through the night. I’m pressing my body against his back to shelter myself from the icy wind, but he is too broad and my thighs are already sore from trying to stay in this position. Torben’s polar bear is running in front of us, his white fur disappearing into the snow storm. I don’t think I can hold on much longer. When Finn jumps over a root, I almost slip. I yelp, but the sound is swallowed by the storm. Finn must have noticed, because he’s increasing his speed, racing against the wind.
When he finally stops, I let go, sliding down to the ground. My muscles are locked in place, and I can no longer feel my fingers and toes. I hate the cold. Why did we leave the warm house and the fire place again? This was a stupid idea. Stupid bears.
Someone warm picks me up and carries me inside. I look around, expecting another house. No such luck, it’s a cave. A pretty big one, judging from what I can make out in the dim light the snow reflects from outside. A torch flashes to life on one cave wall, illuminating a naked Finn. Not again.
Minutes later, I’m sandwiched between two bears. The furry kind, not the naked humans they were a moment ago. Finn has lit a few torches and a small fire. It can’t compete with the warmth the two bears are giving me, though. I shiver, and suddenly two massive bears rub against me from both sides. Something in me ignites, and I’m starting to feel almost too hot. Maybe that’s from imagining them as humans, snuggling, hugging, touching … no-go zone, Isla. They’re going to leave soon, so don’t start depending on them. Which is kind of hard, being caught in the middle of a snow storm. I run my hands through Finn’s fur, and he hums in contentment. Torben’s muzzle nudges me from behind, and I extend a hand to his fur as well. Torben’s fur is thicker, shorter, while Finn has long and almost soft fur. I rub against both of them, reciprocating the motion - stop! What do you think you’re doing?
I send some cold thoughts towards my conscience and she quiets down. I’ve got a good reason to hug bears tonight.
Suddenly Torben sits up, growling. Finn’s ears twitch and he jumps towards the cave entrance, leaving one side of my body in the cold. Torben barks and Finn turns back, lowering his head in deference. I know they’re communicating in their minds and I would give anything - well, a lot - to be able to listen to what they’re saying.
With a growl, Torben gets up and races into the night, leaving me with Finn. Watching the polar bear running gracefully off into the dark, I don’t even notice Finn shift until I feel a human hand on my shoulder. I look up and - ignore certain bits and try to avoid blushing.
“Ràn’s hurt,” he whispers hoarsely. “Torben has gone to help.”
Time passes achingly slow. Finn has changed back into a bear to help keep me warm, but he’s promised to shift as soon as the others contact him. I’m clinging to him, trying to ignore the pictures of an injured Ràn racing through my mind. Finn said the brothers had gone to the house, which apparently had almost collapsed by the time they got there. Without even waiting to contact Torben to find out if we were ok, Ràn jumped into the building. That’s when it fully collapsed, burying Ràn under it. Stupid, stupid bear.
It’s cold. Every few minutes I turn so my body stays warm on all sides. Like a kebab, basically.
After about ten turns, Finn finally shifts. Apparently, he can do it while lying down, impressive. Not so impressive is having him lie against me from behind, skin on skin.
“They got him out of the rubble,” he whispers, as if any loud sound would make it worse. “He had to shift for the boys to pull him out, but he’s in too much pain to shift back. We heal best in our bear form, and can stand the pain a lot better. Ràn needs to shift, but the pain is stopping him from doing it. Torben is trying to deal with his wounds, but he’s no healer, and Ràn is refusing to be touched. The only person he’s letting close is his brother, and only as a bear.”
“Why?”
“Because… it’s not my story to tell. Let’s just say that he can’t stand the touch of other men.”
“Will he let a woman touch him?”
“I suppose so… We’ve never tried. As you’ll have noticed, he doesn’t talk much. It used to be different, he used to be so much like Húnn that everyone took them for twins, but now… I’m never quite sure what goes on in his head.”
I turn around to look into his sad eyes. The pain in his voice makes me reach out to touch his cheek, wiping away a tear that isn’t there. He takes my hand and grips it tightly.
“If we got him to you… do you think you could help him?”
“I’ll do my best. I may be trained in medicine, but to help him he’ll have to let me touch him.”
I know they are coming when Finn untangles his large form from me. He gives me a nod, then runs outside into the snow. Only one of the torches is still burning, giving off a tiny bit of light. Not enough to see further than the cave entrance. It takes a few agonising minutes until I can hear the sound of heavy pawsteps in the snow.
Ràn is lying on Húnn’s back, his pale naked body looking small and broken against the dark fur of his brother. Finn and Torben are on either side, preventing Ràn from sliding to the ground.
When they enter the cave, they shift. Torben carefully carries Ràn and lays him down next to the fire, while Finn reignites the torches. The more light fills the cavern, the more I can see Ràn’s injuries. Deep gashes are covering his back, bruising is already forming around his shoulders, and his right arm is bent at a strange angle. His teeth are clenched in pain, his angular jaw forming sharp lines.
I kneel by his side, gently laying a hand on his cheek. He flinches, but I leave it there. I need to see if I’ll be able to treat him. When he doesn’t protest further, I press two fingers against his throat, checking his pulse. It’s alarmingly slow, and his skin is getting clammy. I need to do something, now.
Shifters Gone Wild; Collection Page 5