by Lola Gabriel
“The girl?” he asked. Axel, his hands out toward the fire, nodded.
“How did you—?” Byron slapped him on the back and left his hand there.
“You’ve been a mess for the last couple of days. And she looks like her father.” Byron turned to face him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was going to. I had my suspicions, and I wanted to be sure, but then I saw you together. The way you looked together and saw one another. The way there was something more there than the usual when you got close. I’m bonded, Axel. I see it. Maria and I, we still have that. And our cubs. And… I think this will turn out because it must. She’s for you, and you’re for her. Her brother is an obstacle, and I’m sorry this is the only way to overcome it.”
11
Keira
Keira had to follow her brother.
“No,” Chance had said. Then, after the change—which he’d made from fully clothed in some attempt, she thought, to show his masculinity—rather than hide his nakedness from his sister, he’d held her human form down with a paw. He’d done it softly.
Chance had been there the first time she had shifted, just a year after him. It still hurt for him, and he’d turned first, seeing the signs in her: the shivering, the quickened breath, the glances up at the sky.
“It’s okay,” Chance had said then, and he had removed all his clothes except his underwear, his stocky teenage body shivering in the cold night. “It’s okay. It hurts, and then it doesn’t. Watch.” And he’d turned his back to her and shifted, as slowly and controlled as he knew how to at sixteen. Ten minutes later, as Keira burst through her clothes and cried at that first slow change, he had pawed her and licked her cheeks.
She thought about that as she followed him in secret, trying not to crunch the still-falling snow under her paws. She would be distracted by a smell or a thought of bear-Axel or some ripping anger at Chance. But she tried to keep that human thought, that human memory; that her brother loved her and this was all showboating.
Chance was running. Bounding through the forest as if he was happy, and that made it harder. Was he convincing himself? The trees were spiky and evergreen. Following without whipping them back or impaling herself was close to impossible.
They were faster than bears. Faster than anything, really, but the journey still took two days. As the light faded, the men—because it was still men who went out to provide backup for their alpha—shifted and set up snow-hole camps and fires. Keira didn’t dare. She couldn’t make the mess and noise of camping and would freeze to death, curled up as a naked human in the snow. It was dangerous to stay bear this long. It clouded you, confused you. You still never forgot, but you changed, gave into the animal desires with more ease. By morning, she had eaten sparse berries from low bushes and a rabbit who was out late in season. Her golden fur was bloodstained, though she had the wherewithal to try to wipe her snout off in the snow.
It wasn’t until noon on the second day that they reached the clearing. Keira recognized it, despite all the years that had passed. Her father had brought her here once, on his back, before she had made her first change in her fifteenth year. It had been a brawl then, with Axel’s grandfather. Her brother had been drunk in his human form the night before, forbidden from his first summons. He’d never forgiven her, she supposed. Or himself. And she had felt, then and for a long time afterwards, that her father had wanted her to take over. She had known she would be the more balanced leader.
But it couldn’t happen, and so it hadn’t.
Keira watched Chance pacing now, waiting, when he should be resting. Every muscle in his big bear body was tense. He should camp. He should at least burrow. Normally, she would calm him, talk him down, but she was afraid of what he would do if he knew she was here. She’d come out of the back door and kept behind trees. It was a strange feeling to be afraid of her brother for real, her heart beating hard for another man; another alpha. What did that mean for her loyalties? What would her father—?
What did it matter? She’d found her mate. And if she could cross the wide clearing, she would be able to find him, warn him of her brother’s rage, tell him about his anger, his weak spots, exactly when he would give up before it was too much. But with every move Keira made, she risked being heard. In the light of morning, it was a little easier and a little harder. She would be seen easier, her light and distinctive coat amongst the trees, but she could see better, too. She would go back on herself, she decided, and circle the clearing from a distance. The worst part was walking away, afraid a paw would come down on her from behind. But she did it. She made her paws as soft as possible, placing each leg down as though she was trying not to break an egg.
She would never make it at this pace.
When Keira turned her head and could no longer see the movement of the camp setting up flickering through the trees, she began to run. She was a mile or more out from it, which meant several miles around, and she had hunted that rabbit in the early hours. She could have, should have, made up the ground then. But the colors were blurring as she ran now, and the smells were getting stronger. Her sides brushing up against branches sent tingles down her spine, and she could hear the snow falling from the trees. She knew she could make it.
After the camp was out of sight, however, there was no way to tell where she was. And no scent to follow, even though she searched for Axel’s, the only one she really wanted to find. It took the movement of the sun over one quarter of the sky to find some snow that tasted of what she wanted.
Chance had been here, but how far had she wandered? Half a sun. What did half a sun mean? Keira had been shifted for two days. Her brain was swimming. She could think in suns and wants and… She ran in the direction of the scent. It was taking too long, and she knew that, at least. Her snout was scratched by thorns until her eyes watered and tears ran down her fur, leaving dark trails. They froze. She ran. She ran. She ran. They scratched. She ran.
The clearing opened up in front of her. Two bears were circling each other. One was snarling, the other trying to keep eye contact. All Keira could register was that it was too late. The bears were kicking up snow. They butted heads hard. An ear was bitten, but she could barely tell whose it was. And then they stood up on two legs, claws out, and they began to rip, to roar as the snow ran red.
12
Axel
Axel had rested well. He had eaten. He had prepared as much as was possible. But this was no territorial brawl. They circled and pawed, as they were supposed to, as generations before them had done after every summons, however serious or trivial. But once they reared, somehow at the same time, the whites of their eyes showing, it was completely real.
Chance slashed at Axel’s face, and Axel dodged. His wet fur was freezing, and it hit him in the eyes. Axel blinked back tears and ice water, going down to all fours. He backed away for a moment. Chance was the larger bear, but Axel was faster, his muscles twitching visibly under his dark fur. Chance was a lighter color, though not as light as his sister. His gums were drawn back, his slightly yellowed canines showing. He leapt at Axel, who, once more, jumped out of the way. If he could just tire Chance out, he would have a shot. Chance was angry, full of adrenaline, but Axel needed this more. He needed Keira, or he wouldn’t really be living his life. Perhaps it would be a good thing if Chance killed him, he thought for a moment. Then he imagined Keira alone, with a brother who had betrayed her, and he took his first real lunge.
It was so sudden that Chance was caught by surprise. Axel’s claws made full contact. They dug deep just behind Chance’s ear, which was ripped half away from his head before he managed to turn and dig his teeth deep into Axel’s front leg. Axel felt tendons snap, and a grey film of pain came down over him as he shook free, limping on three legs backward.
The snow was turning red beneath them, then pink as they kicked it up again. Axel tried to breathe slowly, calmly, trying to slow his heartbeat.
The injury had only made Chance angrier.
He snarled and circled. He lunged, a fake out, trying to unsettle Axel. Axel thought of his first fights, mock battles with his father and with Byron. When the teenage, unpredictable Axel had roared and clawed and run at his dad after fakes like that, or after he had scratched Axel or rolled him over in the snow, his father had stopped him with a paw.
“Never be the angrier one, Axel,” he would say on their walks home. “Let your opponent see red while you see clearly.” It had been hard advice to take then, in tussles with older bears when he had wanted badly to prove himself. But this wasn’t about proving himself—this was about Keira. He had to calm himself down.
Axel backed away as far as he could, making Chance move forward, making him follow, use up his energy. Chance leapt at Axel when he was close enough, and Axel rolled, his damaged paw held up, but still hitting the snow so that pain shot into him. It was like it was coming from the earth itself. Chance had his back to Axel now, and Axel took his moment. He reared up. Chance turned. Axel snapped at him, and then they were both on their hind legs. Chance was panting hard. His eyes were narrowed. His breath was coming in great clouds, and Axel could see his own doing the same. He saw nothing but Chance. And he knew Chance saw nothing but him. All the bears watching were silent. And then, almost simultaneously, jaws open, claws unsheathed, they lunged.
That was when she arrived: a smaller female, a golden bear, and the two males smashed into her instead of into each other. Axel’s one good paw got her in the back, he thought, but he couldn’t be sure. Both he and Chance were too late to pull back. All three bears fell to the snow. There was noise from the audience, yaps and growls and paws in the snow.
13
Keira
Keira woke to Axel and Chance above her, both wrapped in blankets.
“Apply pressure,” Chance was saying. “For fuck’s sake, are you an idiot? Pressure!”
“Where?” Axel was bloody, his left arm was ripped to pieces, and his right hand was dripping red. That hand was on her. “You tore her to shreds!” Axel cried, pressing down. There were tears in his eyes. Neither of the men had noticed she was awake. She lifted an arm to touch Axel.
“What happened?” she tried to say, but it was a whisper.
“You got in the middle.” Chance sounded angry, even though he was shaking, trying to hold one of the blankets she now realized were also covering her against a gash in her side. “This was you,” he snarled at Axel. Axel, though, was looking down at her.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, “but I’m trying to stop the bleeding. I’m so sorry.” Upon the snow, Keira shook her head, her already wet hair getting wetter. She was numb from the cold, except for the ache of her wounds. She held Axel’s forearm, stroked it with a thumb. She looked into his blue eyes.
“No,” she murmured. “I shifted—” She took a breath. “I shifted days ago. It’s a blur… I saw you two, and the blood, and I… I wanted it to stop…”
“Keira,” Chance said, “don’t try to talk. Just stop. Explain later.” Then his eyebrows furrowed. “Did you follow us here? Were you… were you shifted the whole time?”
Keira opened her mouth, and Axel said, “Chance is right! Stay quiet, sweetheart.”
Everyone in the clearing had shifted back to their human forms. Some were milling around, agitated, but Byron, as ever, had things under control. His tall figure appeared over Keira, fully clothed, carrying clothes for Chance and Axel, bandages, and more blankets to cover her.
“We’ll take her to Ambrosia,” he said, dropping the clothes by their sides and shooing them away from her so that he could wrap bandages tight around the wounds on her torso.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. Her eyelids were flickering, and she could feel herself drifting off.
“Who is that?” Chance asked, looking around as if he wanted one of his men to come to the rescue, too, though Byron had it as covered as it could be.
“It’s Byron,” Keira said. “Don’t worry, it’s Byron.”
“Axel, put on those damn clothes,” Byron said. “No one wants to see you naked.”
“I do.” Keira tried to smile or laugh, but it hurt too much.
Byron managed a chuckle. “You were right, Axel. She is funny.”
Chance had stepped back a little, had pulled on the thermals and jeans provided for him, and was holding the sweater. He was looking between Axel and his sister. Axel was crying quietly, also pulling on his clothes. Keira was watching them as best as she could, but she knew she was about to pass out. She held out a hand to them both, beckoning them closer. Byron shifted, moving away from his nursing tasks for a moment, and Chance and Axel knelt on either side of Keira on the bloody snow.
“Look at me,” she said, despite the fact that they already were. She could just barely see. “I love you… I love both of you. Please don’t kill each other. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Everything went dark for her.
14
Chance
Keira was being lifted onto a stretcher, wrapped in rough blankets. He wasn’t helping, and he didn’t know why. He was frozen. She had followed him. She had followed him, and he hadn’t even noticed, how had he not noticed?
She had been trying to find Axel; she had been coming for Axel. Chance didn’t want to think about what that meant or what he felt about it. He clenched his fists. His head hurt where his ear was torn. The blood on his face was beginning to freeze. He brought his sweater-covered elbow up to rub some of it from his chin.
Axel was over by the stretcher, following it as Keira was carried to the edge of the clearing. He was beside her. She had been looking for him.
Before he knew it, Chance’s legs were moving. He was on the dark-haired man and had tackled him to the ground. Axel was already bleeding through his sweater sleeves, and the side of Chance’s head was an oozing mess despite his attempt at cleaning it up, but they rolled around in the snow anyway, making yet another patch of pink in the white.
“Why did you want her?” Chance was shouting. “Why did you make me do this?” He lifted a hand to hit Axel, but Axel caught the fist in his good hand, trying to hold his bad arm to his chest. He twisted Chance’s arm, but Chance was bigger, stronger, and he resisted. Their hands were locked on the ground.
“I don’t know!” Axel screamed. “I didn’t!” He tried to draw his injured arm in closer to him and grimaced. “Chance, I didn’t look for this! We’re mates, you know we—”
They were pulled apart by several sets of hands.
“What are you doing?” and, “Stop it!” came from several mouths. Axel held his left forearm tight with his right hand. Panting, Chance pushed his bloody hair from his face.
“I’m taking her to Ambrosia,” he said. “I’m doing it.”
From behind him, where Keira had been laid in the cover of the trees, came the rough voice of the tall brown-haired Fairbankser who had bandaged her. “You’ll take her together.”
Chance turned. “What? What’s your name?”
“Your sister told you,” Axel said. “That’s Byron. And he’s trying to save Keira’s life, so please show him some respect.”
Chance looked at Axel now. He had composed himself, like the tussle in the snow had brought him back into his body. He was still holding his arm, shivering, but his feet were set apart, his jaw tight. Chance had to admit he was good looking: blue eyes, dark hair, slim frame. He could see why his sister liked him. Physically, at least.
“We both want the same thing,” Axel said. Then Byron broke in.
“Just put on some layers and bandage yourselves up. You’re both a mess. I’m going to find a car. We can’t run with her, she’d die.” And he turned away, running off into the forest, where he would undoubtedly shift.
“He’s going to steal a car,” Axel said. Chance couldn’t help himself, and a half smile crept onto his face.
“You have a good man there,” he conceded. “He’s right. I don’t like you, and I’m not going to, and I don’t want you with my sister.
But for now, bandage yourself up and put on some layers. We have to save her.” Chance strode toward his side of the clearing, where his men were waiting for him, huddled and worried. They needed him, too, he realized as he neared them. They had followed him with almost no information, and he was about to tell them to head home without him. Again, he lifted his arm to his face and rubbed at the dried blood there.
15
Axel
Axel pulled on a second sweater and a down jacket, a hat, and one glove. He held the other and turned. “Can someone?”
Turner, a young shifter Axel didn’t yet know well, nodded. Silently, he walked over, snow crunching beneath his boots. He took the glove and carefully inched it onto Axel’s left hand. There was intense concentration on his face. When he was done, he looked up.
“Are you going with her, sir?” he asked. Axel almost laughed but held back.
“It’s Axel,” he said, “not sir. And yes, I am, but you’ll all be fine. You’ll be home and warm soon.” Turner shook his head.
“Sorry, Axel,” he said. “I mean. She’s… your mate? Will she come back to Fairbanks if she—?” Axel nodded.
“This is a lot of questions.” Turner looked a little embarrassed.
“Uh… we were…” He gestured back to a group of teenagers in a huddle far into the woods. “We were wondering what it’s like, to find your mate, and… Well, that fight was cool. I mean, why do we hate the… the Juneau pack? No one has told us.”
Axel once again took his injured arm in his good hand. He looked up at the grey sky, at the trees.