by Zoe Chant
“Whoa!” Carrie said, taking another step back. “Okay, that’s enough now. I’m sorry, I’m really not in the mood for these games. You think that just because I told you that I have no idea who my parents are, you can just make up weird stories about the poor little orphan? I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need your mockery. I’ve got a good life: I’ve got a good job and friends and a place of my own. I don’t need—”
“Carrie,” he said again, speaking as gently as he could. “I’m not mocking you. I swear I would sooner hurt myself than ever hurt you.”
“Well, you’ve done a great job botching this up,” she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “Just my luck. I knew it was too good to be true that a guy like you would be single...”
“I’m sorry. This is going to look really weird,” Darrell said hastily, “but I’ve got no other way to show you. I’m really sorry.”
A moment later, he’d stripped out of his jeans to Carrie’s shocked gasp.
Hurriedly, he shifted as soon as he’d pulled off his shirt. Carrie’s shout died in her throat.
Her eyes wide, she began to stumble backwards—only to trip over a stone and land on her behind with an undignified squeak.
Darrell slunk forward on his paws, giving her hand a friendly nudge with his nose.
Carrie screamed, and with a wince, Darrell immediately shifted back.
Again her scream died away. She looked up at him with dazed eyes.
“Oh my fucking God, I’ve gone insane,” she muttered.
“You’re perfectly sane,” Darrell said in apology as he quickly pulled on his clothes once more. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t think of a better way. You see, when I shift while wearing clothes, my bear’s so large that he tears the clothes. And I didn’t want to have to walk you back naked. The sheriff wouldn’t like it, for one thing.”
“You’re serious,” Carrie muttered. She didn’t accept his hand, but managed to get up on her own, although she looked shaken. “You’re really serious.”
“You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” Darrell took a deep breath.
Everything inside him cried out for her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and soothe his mate’s fear and panic. But he couldn’t. Not while she was still so scared.
“When I found you in the forest, you were a cat,” he said.
Carrie shook her head. “No,” she said. “Oh no, no, no, no. Those things don’t exist. This isn’t a goddamn movie.”
“A big one, with long, fluffy fur. An orange tabby. Maine Coon, I think,” he said earnestly. “With the cutest ears with little tufts of fur at the tip.”
In answer, Carrie simply covered her face with her hands. “I’m dreaming. Or I’ve got a concussion. Or maybe it’s that damn accident. I never woke up and now I’m in a hospital on a morphine drip or something.”
“I think the morphine really only happens in old war movies,” Darrell said helpfully. “Sorry,” he then added before he reached out and pinched her arm.
“Ouch!” Carrie yelped, dropping her hands to give him a reproachful look. “What was that for?”
“You felt that, right? So it shows you’re awake. You’re not in a coma. You’re not insane. I’m really a bear shifter.” Darrell paused for a moment, wondering what else he could do to make her believe him. “And so is the sheriff.”
“No, no, no,” Carrie muttered. “This is insane. I’m trapped in a forest in a camp of weirdos.”
“Sorry.” Darrell watched her carefully. He wanted nothing more than to draw his mate into his arms and promise her that from now on, nothing and no one would ever harm her again.
So why don’t we just do that, his bear rumbled.
This really isn’t the best time, Darrell replied silently.
Before him, Carrie took a deep breath. Then she straightened—and glared at him. Even angry, she was gorgeous. The sun was gleaming on her hair, and her eyes were sparkling, animated by the annoyance that had made her body tense.
Darrell couldn’t help but notice how her full breasts were pressing against her shirt. With the sun behind her, all the curves of her body were outlined by a gentle, golden glow of sunlight, and now more than ever he wished that he could run his hands along those soft curves, and then follow that touch with his mouth until she was marked all over by his scent and his touch.
“I’m... I dreamed of being a cat,” Carrie finally murmured. She no longer looked quite as angry. In fact, there was a sudden vulnerability in her voice, as though she was scared.
Very slowly, Darrell reached out. He rested his hand on her arm, the touch gentle and reassuring.
“The accident must have been terrifying,” he said. “Perhaps the scariest thing you’ve ever experienced. In those moments, instinct takes over. Everything is happening so fast that you don’t have time to think. And there, deeply buried at the heart of you, your inner animal was sitting, cut off from you since perhaps earliest childhood, just as scared as you. And in that one heartbeat of terror, your animal’s instincts took over. The window splintered. The car hurtled off the road, down the steep incline. And your cat took command. You shifted, and she jumped through the burst window.”
“And then I ran,” Carrie murmured, her voice distant.
She wasn’t looking at Darrell. Her eyes were unfocused, as though she was watching a memory taking shape before her eyes. “I was scared. I was alone. There was only the fear, and the need to run as fast as I could. I had large paws made for running through a forest, and eyes that could see details I’d never seen before. I knew all about the mice and the birds hiding in the underbrush, and I could read the scent trails of deer. I knew the wind against my whiskers. I knew how to hunt, and how to climb a tree. And I knew that there was danger behind me...”
Darrell reached out for her, drawing her into his arms when her knees began to wobble.
“Oh, fuck. I’m really a cat,” she gasped, her entire body shaking. “I remember it now. I remember.”
Darrell held her tightly, pressing his lips tenderly to her hair. “It’s all right,” he said, his own voice rough with emotion. “It’s all right. You should have had a clan to teach you and protect you. You should have grown up with your animal as your closest and dearest friend. But it’s all right now. I have you. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
For a long moment, Carrie remained in his arms, her body shaking as emotions overwhelmed her. When she finally drew back, her eyes were wet—but her shoulders had tensed again.
“And my parents,” she said with quiet anger. “They abandoned me, although they knew. They knew about this!”
Slowly, Darrell nodded. “In most cases, it’s passed on from parent to child. Every now and then, there are children that can’t shift—but we love them all the same. At least, we do here in Linden Creek.”
“Maybe they thought I couldn’t shift, and that’s why they abandoned me as a baby.” Carrie laughed bitterly. “Or maybe they cared so little about me that they didn’t care that someone like me would get pushed around from foster family to foster family.”
A moment later, Carrie’s eyes widened. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “That explains why no one wanted to keep me as a child! My case worker never gave me details about what exactly happened—just said that the families were uncomfortable with me. I always thought that I was just weird and didn’t fit in with them.”
“Nothing about you is weird,” Darrell said, his voice firm, vibrating with an undercurrent of anger at the thought of a young child growing up without a loving family. “You’re gorgeous, and loving, and incredibly smart. It’s their loss, Carrie, not yours. Your cat is still here, deep inside you. Your cat saved you. And now—now you two can learn together. You’ve come to the right town for this.”
And to the right shifter, his bear proudly grumbled.
Carrie laughed softly, and then reached up, determinedly wiping the last tears from her eyes.
“Their loss,” she repeated proudly. “Damn right. I put
myself through community college while working two jobs. I got my apartment and my job and friends who care, even if my parents never did. I can deal with this, too. I’m not weird.”
“You’re just a shifter,” Darrell said, and then grinned at her. “And you’ve come to the home of a bear shifter clan. Welcome to Linden Creek, Carrie. Welcome to your new life.”
Chapter Seven: Carrie
“All right. Try closing your eyes this time. That’ll make it easier. Trust me,” Darrell said.
I trust you, Carrie thought, her belly filling with warmth at the rumble of his voice.
She could still barely believe what had happened.
After their talk, Darrell had accompanied her back to the bed and breakfast, and she’d slept for eleven hours, despite her earlier nap. And in the morning, Darrell had been waiting for her again.
It was early; the sun had barely risen. The sheriff’s office was still closed. They were the first at breakfast, down in the cozy dining room, and they left just when a bleary-eyed family with a cheerful little girl made their way down the stairs.
It was the perfect time to work on her shifting—or so it had seemed.
Now that she was standing in a small clearing in the forest, safely hidden from view, it no longer seemed like such a good idea.
“You didn’t tell me it was so hard,” Carrie sighed.
So far, five attempts hadn’t worked out.
“Eyes closed,” Darrell said with mock sternness. “And now, think of your animal. Think of what you remember about running through the forest on your paws. The scents, the feel of sunlight on your fur, the excitement of the hunt...”
Obediently, Carrie tried to recall what it had been like to be trapped in a cat’s body. She remembered the feel of cool moss against her paws—and the relief of being curled up on a branch, able to survey everything below her.
Be a cat again, she told herself firmly. A cat. I’m a cat. Be a cat.
Her jaw was beginning to ache. It took a moment until she realized that she’d clenched it tightly. Her fingernails were digging into her palm.
With a sigh of disappointment, she opened her eyes.
She was still human. Nothing had changed. Only she’d forgotten to breathe, and now she felt a little dizzy.
“It’s much harder than I thought,” she said in disappointment. “I don’t think I can do it. Maybe it was a one-time thing. Just because I was in danger. Maybe I’m no real shifter after all, and that’s why I was abandoned.”
“Nonsense,” Darrell murmured.
His eyes were warm. There was no pity in them, which was a relief. There was heat in them—which was also a relief, and made her stomach clench with instinctive desire.
She wasn’t just imagining the sparks between them. He had to feel the same—otherwise, why would he spend so much time with her?
“Okay, time for a different approach,” he said, his smile widening—just as the heat in his eyes was deepening. “Do you trust me?”
Carrie’s stomach gave a jolt. Sudden arousal throbbed at the core of her. The piercing gaze of those strange, light-filled eyes seemed to speak to a hidden part of her, something ancient and primal and full of need...
“Of course,” she said, embarrassed by how breathless her voice sounded.
God, when was the last time I wanted a man so badly? But then, he’s like no one I’ve ever met...
“Close your eyes again,” he said.
She gave him a doubtful look, but in answer, he just raised his chin imperiously.
With a deep sigh, Carrie obeyed.
With her eyes closed, she had to trust her other senses. Her ears told her that Darrell was moving around her. Then there was the sensation of touch—his warmth against hers as he stepped behind her, his arms coming around her.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he demanded, his voice low.
Despite herself, she shivered. Something in her instinctively responded to the sudden vibration of power in his voice. There was something deliciously commanding in it—the confidence of a man who was used to taking charge and having his orders obeyed.
Alpha, something faint seemed to whisper in her. She didn’t know where the thought had come from. It hadn’t really been a thought, anyway... more like the distant echo of another person’s voice.
But who....
“Now relax. Trust me. Think only of me,” Darrell ordered, his voice still dark and decisive.
She’d never liked men who got off on ordering others around—mostly because Carrie did a damn good job of running a busy office by herself, and any involvement of her boss always just resulted in chaos and a mess she’d have to fix.
But something about Darrell was different. There was an overwhelming confidence in his voice—but it was the sort of leadership that made something in her breathlessly want to follow along.
Leadership... that’s a good word, she thought dimly. That’s what he’s got. Not arrogance—a natural dominance. Like he’s a general preparing to lead us into battle.
Like an alpha in charge of his clan, something inside her seemed to whisper again.
Carrie shivered when Darrell’s hot breath ghosted against her skin. He was so close that she could feel his heat through her clothes. It was a good feeling.
His arms were strong, his muscles like corded ropes of steel. He was the sort of man who’d run off into the wilderness if someone was in danger out there. The sort of man who’d rescue a stranger from a werewolf.
The sort of man who’d defend his territory and protect his mate with his life...
She was swaying. He was still speaking, but she couldn’t make out the words any longer. Warmth had spread through her limbs. She felt sluggish—and also strangely light. Like she would just float away if he let go of her.
Don’t let go of me, she thought.
I’ve got you, his voice seemed to whisper in return.
Slowly, a smile spread over her face. She could feel the rays of sunlight on her skin. Everything was warm and golden. Darrell’s strength anchored her. She was free.
There was nothing but the forest all around them. Nothing but the sun and grass and sunlight—and this incredibly sexy man who could set her body on fire with a single look.
The arousal was still a part of her, but it had turned into a low, sweet ache, right there in her heart, as though he’d put a hook into it.
Does he feel the same? Is that why he likes holding me close?
You’re safe, his voice whispered in her mind. I’m here. I’ve got you. Let go. Let go, Carrie. Be free.
Be free, she thought in wonder, feeling lighter and lighter as warmth continued to spread through her body.
Her limbs were tingling now. It was the weirdest sensation. Like thousands of tiny bubbles exploding beneath her skin.
It made her want to giggle. It made her want to spread her arms and give herself up to this joyous lightness in her heart, as if she’d just have to think the word and she’d be able to fly away...
With a sudden rush, the warmth intensified. It wasn’t scary, even though it was so strange.
She giggled at the way it felt—as if the rays of sunlight were tickling her skin.
But the sound that escaped her lips was no giggle. It was a little mewl.
Shocked, she opened her eyes—and found herself faced with the fabric of her skirt, which had somehow grown to the size of a tent.
A heartbeat later, she’d hopped out of the fabric that had entrapped her—and landed on her paws.
I’m a cat, she thought, stunned. She looked down at her paws. I’m really a cat!
Her fur was striped, she saw when she turned her head. She was an orange tabby, just like Darrell had told her, with fluffy fur.
She’d really turned into a cat. It wasn’t a nightmare, or the shock of the accident. It was all real.
And she wasn’t alone.
The feeling was stronger now. The distant whisper was more distinct. It didn’t feel strange—it wasn’t
at all like being trapped in a body together with a cat.
There, deep at the heart of her, something had resided for as long as she knew. She’d simply never acknowledged it before.
Hi, she whispered silently, entranced by that spirit of wary elegance.
After a moment, there was the briefest brush of a mind against her own—just like a hesitant cat brushing quickly against her leg before retreating.
Have you been here with me all along? she asked in awe. I’m sorry. How lonely you must have been. I never even knew you were here with me...
Again her animal brushed against her. This time, the touch lingered a little longer, like a cat carefully sniffing at an outstretched hand.
And then, at last, there was an answer.
Can we run? the voice asked wistfully. I’ve dreamed of running, chasing, climbing trees for so long... I don’t want to go back to sleep. Let me be free. Please.
Was that what had happened? Carrie couldn’t remember much of her youngest childhood. Had she shifted by accident and freaked out her foster parents?
If I was sent away every time I shifted, no wonder I stopped...
And by the time she was five and placed with the family that fostered her until she’d finished school, she’d already learned to deeply bury her inner cat, afraid that she’d end up losing the love of her newest family.
I’m sorry, she said again, carefully reaching out with her mind for that elusive creature of fur deep inside her. I’m really sorry. I’m here now, with you. I found you. And I won’t abandon you again. We’ll be free now—together.
“Everything all right?” Darrell’s voice interrupted. He’d knelt, and now carefully reached out for her.
Carrie gave his fingers a little sniff, not quite sure why she did it, only that it seemed natural.
And he smelled good. Oh, he smelled so good, of something dark and woody and spicy that wrapped all around her.
Her wary cat came forward with sudden interest, deeply inhaling the scent as well—and then promptly flopped to her back in Carrie’s mind, rolling around with a happy little mewl.