by V. Vaughn
“Most shifters want to settle down with their families and have a comfortable, stable life. It's just our way."
"You should check out the guy who boarded,” Seiko said. “I bet you anything he's a shifter."
"I bet he's a wolf," Helen said.
Seiko shook her head. "No way. Grizzly bear all the way."
"I would settle for a rabbit if I could find my mate," Stephanie said with a laugh.
Everyone started cracking up, even the guys.
A loud boom interrupted their laughter. The entire ship shook as though it had been hit by something. Then the fire alarms started blaring.
"What is happening?" Helen asked.
Stephanie looked around the room for a clue. "Maybe we've hit a reef or something."
A voice came over the loudspeaker. "Proceed to your cabins. Stay in your cabin until further notice."
Everyone began to scream and shuffle out of the dining room. There was a crush of bodies as hundreds of guests tried to make their way out of the room at the same time.
Out on the deck, Stephanie saw what was really happening. There was a ship right beside them, firing at the cruise ship. The bow of their ship had been smashed, and another fiery bomb was hurtling across the sky. It crashed into the upper forward deck, sending shards of glass and burning debris raining all around. Everyone screamed, rushing toward the elevators and stairs to get to their rooms.
Stephanie had no idea how they were going to stay safe inside a room if they were being attacked.
"I loved Titanic as a kid, but this is ridiculous," Helen said.
“Where’s Leo?” Seiko whimpered.
"Pirates! Pirates!" someone screamed.
"Pirates? In this day and age?" Stephanie asked in disbelief.
Helen shrugged. "What else could it be?"
"We need to get to our rooms." Stephanie rushed along with the others in the crush of bodies as they tried to get into the elevator to go downstairs. She was pushed hard and skidded across the floor of the deck as another bomb blew through the air. It hit the deck just yards behind her, ripping the floor right from under her feet. She screamed as she fell, descending hundreds of feet into the black waters below. She screamed again as she tried desperately to keep her head above water, but she sank hard and fast, deep into the dark abyss.
Kicking her arms and legs frantically, she made it to the surface, coughing up water. She tried to grab on to a floating piece of debris, when a fiery mass hit her again. She was blown away from the ship by the force of the waves pushing her and the floating debris out into the ocean. As the water and wind blew her farther away, she screamed and screamed. Stephanie could see the pirate ship bombing the cruise ship in the distance. Booms resounded over and over until her vessel was on its last legs. She didn't think anyone could have survived the onslaught. The last thing she saw before it disappeared on the horizon was the cruise ship sinking into the black waters of the Caribbean.
Marooned on the floating debris, Stephanie had a pounding head and a sick heart. She screamed until her voice was raw and hoarse. Her throat ached from sucking down salt water. Stephanie couldn’t imagine who would save her, who would find her. Her Christmas vacation had been destroyed, and she would most likely lose her life. Finally, she lay prone on the drifting raft. It bobbed up and down in the treacherous waters, pushing her farther out to sea.
Stars spread out before her in the blanket of night, and all she could do was stare above. She had no food, no water, and no way of calling back home. She knew that she could never survive out in the middle of the ocean with its many dangers—heat, starvation, dehydration, sharks, or just a big wave that knocked her off her life raft. This is it. She had never found her fated mate because she was destined to die young. That was her fate. That was where luck had brought her, so close to happiness and adventure yet so far away. She could do nothing except sleep and hope the end was painless.
When Stephanie woke the next morning, she was still bobbing along in the ocean. The sun shone brightly overhead. When she tried to give herself a pep talk, she found that her voice was gone. Weak and lightheaded, she sat up on her piece of debris, looking around at the endless ocean. The ship was nowhere in sight. There were no other passengers anywhere close. She spotted some other bits of debris, so she paddled over and found some floating fragments of the ship.
To her complete glee, she found a granola bar still inside its package. She grabbed it out of the ocean, opened it up, and gobbled it down. But she regretted it as soon as she was done. She was so thirsty, and the granola bar had been salty. Her parched lips and mouth begged for water.
She huddled up on the floating debris and pulled her knees to her chest as the sun blared down on her. She would never be able to survive. She had to make peace with her life. As she slipped over the water throughout the day, with the heat buzzing in her brain, she felt herself slipping in and out of reality. But she decided it would be okay to leave the world. It was okay to have lived this long without finding a mate or having a family. She had to be okay with it, or she would go insane before she died.
Stephanie had wonderful friends who would miss her. She had been with them at their weddings and the births of their children. She had been with them through many Christmases and holidays. She had truly loved and been loved in return. It wasn’t any less valuable just because it hadn't been her fated mate.
When she was finally resigned to leaving the world with a clear heart and conscience, she spotted something on the horizon. At first, she was sure she was hallucinating. She had to just let go and let the end come. But as her raft drifted closer, she began to wonder if it really was an island.
She didn't want to get her hopes up, but the closer she got, the clearer it became. She began to paddle. Her arms were tired, but she didn’t give up. It could be her salvation. As she neared the shore, she could see the palm trees swaying in the breeze on the beach and the birds flying above the forest. Her heart leapt. She wasn’t going to die.
Then she saw something circling on the water—the giant fin of a shark.
4
When the pirates attacked the vessel, Max Johnson tried to intervene. He’d rushed across the upper deck, gun in hand, prepared to take out the pirates. Right when he was in range to strike, he was dumped overboard. Luckily, he had all of his necessities stowed away in a lifeboat, which immediately came up from under water. He climbed inside and rode away from the sinking ship. He would have to regroup and come back to the problem after he'd gotten his bearings.
The pirates’ attack had taken him completely off guard. They had historically attacked much smaller vessels such as yachts and sailboats. He had never expected them to take out an entire cruise ship. The last thing he’d witnessed, looking through his binoculars, was the pirates taking the guests captive. Then it all made sense; they would be held for ransom.
Max rowed his lifeboat to the closest island he could find using his GPS and mapping instruments. He then quickly set up a place to sleep for the night. In the morning, he speared some fish and built a fire to cook them over. He built a reverse osmosis water filter and spent the rest of the morning scouting. He found a fresh-water spring, coconuts, and wild fruits he knew were safe to eat. He wove a crab pot, which was already full by late afternoon.
As he was standing on the beach, looking out at the ocean, he saw a tiny speck in the distance. He couldn’t tell if it was a small fishing vessel or perhaps just some debris from the cruise ship. Local law enforcement and the Coast Guard should have been all over the attack by then.
Max had very specific orders for this mission—stay undercover and take out the leader of the pirates. His mark was a woman named Ursula Octa, aka “the sea witch.” She and her crew had become increasingly brazen. Taking out an entire cruise ship was beyond anything he or the Justice Squad would ever have imagined.
He had a license to kill, sanctioned by the US government. His elite secret ops squad was sent on the most dangerous and perilous missi
ons. But in between, he had a comfortable home in a quiet small town in Fate Rock, Colorado. That rest and recuperation was what had attracted him to the Justice Squad to begin with. But he had volunteered to go out on this mission almost as soon as he'd arrived in town.
Maybe he just wasn't capable of settling down. He thought about his mate. Little Puma, she called herself. He pictured those big, beautiful eyes, caramel-chocolate skin, and warm smile. She was surrounded by friends and family in her photographs, but she was the most beautiful woman among them, the most beautiful woman he could imagine. He didn’t see how he could be the one for her. He could never give her what she needed. It wasn't fair for her. And he hated himself for knowing he could never make her happy.
The tiny speck out on the horizon grew closer. He used his binoculars and saw the outline of a human body. A survivor.
Max removed his gun from the holster under his arm and stowed it in his tent. After quickly undressing, he grabbed his spear and stepped out into the water. If it was a survivor, he had the responsibility to bring them to shore. He wasn't quite sure what to do with the civilian while on his mission. But he would cross that bridge after he finished his satellite.
He dove into the water with spear in hand, using his Navy SEAL training to battle through the waves. He came up for air and acclimated himself, spotting the survivor only a few hundred yards off. He started to go down again, but then he saw what lay between him and the survivor—the fin of a great white shark.
Fear slammed into his chest, and he gulped. But he leveled his head and considered his options. Max was a highly trained killer who'd served for more than a decade in secret military operations. He was also a grizzly bear shifter, one of the deadliest creatures living on the planet… besides possibly sharks.
He dove into the water and swam over the reef, approaching the monster fish. As he drew closer, he watched the shark circling the tiny lifeboat. Max swam harder, determined to save the survivor if it was the last thing he ever did. When the shark sensed his movements, it seemed to circle then dove directly toward him. Max was ready with his sharp spear in his fist. As the shark lunged, Max threw the spear with full force through the water. It pierced the shark’s neck. Blood seeped from the wound, spilling into the water. But the shark survived, biting at the spear and breaking the handle. It was wounded but undeterred.
Swimming hard and fast, the shark charged him. Max was defenseless, having left his firearm back on the beach to keep it from getting wet. As the shark approached, he did the only thing he could do. He shifted. And with the rage of a full-grown grizzly shifter, he attacked the oncoming shark, slicing his massive claws into the creature's body. The shark bit down on his arm but let go as Max sank his teeth deep into the creature's neck. His fangs sliced a vein and cut open its gills. Unable to breathe and bleeding out, the shark disengaged, swimming away as fast as its broken body could go.
Max was bleeding. But he had more important things to attend to. He swam toward the lifeboat and came up above the water. He grabbed ahold of the back of the makeshift raft with his mouth and used all of his grizzly strength to propel the debris with the passenger through the water. He was so distracted by the scent of his blood, the taste of the shark’s blood on his lips, and the glare of the sun in his eyes, all he could see was the faint outline of what must have been a human female. He pushed and pushed with all of his might, paddling the lifeboat to shore. When the debris hit the sand, the passenger climbed off, tromped through the water, then collapsed on the sand.
When Max emerged, he was naked and bleeding. "I'll just cover up," he said, holding his hand over the bleeding wound on his arm. He didn't stop to look down at the panting woman on the beach and tried not to show himself to her as he hurried to his tent and supplies. The first thing he did was bandage his arm. Then he dried himself off, put his clothes back on, and tucked his weapon into the holster under his arm.
He grabbed his canteen and filled it with the fresh water he’d filtered that morning. When he located the woman, she was wandering around on the beach, disoriented. He still hadn't seen her face. The wind came up and blew her scent toward him. His inner grizzly sparked with awareness as the fragrances of honey and dew hit his nostrils. The woman turned to him, silhouetted by the bright sunshine.
He stepped closer, holding the canteen. "I'm sure you're thirsty," he said, still unable to see her face.
She came closer, not speaking. Max stepped into the shadows where she stood, and she mouthed something, reaching out for the canteen. Then they finally saw each other as she took the water. Their eyes met, and his inner grizzly roared. She grabbed the water and chugged it down as fast as she could. It dribbled out of the edges of her mouth, down her neck, and soaked her salt-stained dress.
He stared at her, unable to believe what he was seeing. It was Little Puma, his mate. When she finished her water, she handed it back to him and mouthed the word “more.” She grasped her throat and squinted, shaking her head in disbelief. She pointed at her throat and mouthed something he assumed was, "I can't speak."
"You want more water?" he asked. "I have some food too. Come with me." He led her to his camp, filled the canteen again, and handed it to her as she inspected her surroundings.
She took in his gear, his tent, and his supplies but didn’t seem to understand what was happening. She shook her head and pointed at everything.
"It's a long story that I won't get into now," Max said.
She shrugged and accepted the canteen, sitting down on a log by the fire. He handed her a seashell with crab and fish piled on it, and she gratefully began to eat, all the while eyeing him suspiciously.
If she was a shifter, she must have felt the same pull that he did. But he couldn't bring himself to ask her. He couldn't bring himself to say the words. He had been so focused on his mission after landing in the Bahamas that he’d never checked the app again to see if she had responded to their match. Maybe she had seen him and just hadn’t wanted to respond. Maybe she’d been able to somehow tell from his profile that he was a broken, distant man who was incapable of settling down and being what a woman needed.
She scooped a bite of fish into her mouth and mouthed, “Thank you.” The shade and the water seemed to do her good, and her shoulders relaxed. She eyed his tent and the bed as she ate the rest of her meal and finished the water in the canteen.
"Would you like to rest?" he asked.
She looked back at the bed then at him and nodded as she rose from the log. When she stood, she was wobbly on her feet and nearly fell.
He rushed to her and held her up before she collapsed. "Let me help you. You're still weak from your ordeal."
He helped her to the tent, and she crawled inside. A few moments later, she was asleep, her breathing deep and even.
He watched her, unable to think or focus on anything else. This was the last thing he had ever expected to happen. His Little Puma was there, and he had no idea what to do with her.
5
When Stephanie woke, it was dark. She sat up with a start in the tent and gazed out the flap at the man sitting on the other side of the flickering fire. She sat still as she stared at him. Everything in her was screaming that this man was her mate. Perhaps she was dreaming, still on that raft, hallucinating under the hot sun.
Her mind swam, trying to remember what had happened the day before. She had been desperately trying to row herself to the shore. That was when she’d seen the shark and had believed that all was lost yet again. But out of nowhere, a man had swum through the water. Then he’d turned into a grizzly, fought the shark, and won. That had to have been a dream. Things like that just didn't happen in real life.
Stephanie knew a lot of shifters, and while they were strong and brave and bold, they were nothing like that. This guy was like a superhero. After he’d defeated the shark, all she could smell was blood. She was exhausted and dehydrated from being exposed to the elements for so long without water. The man had pushed her back to shore in grizzly
form. He was bleeding when he’d shifted back and walked naked across the beach to his camp. She had tried not to look at him as he’d wrapped his wound and dressed. When he’d finally walked toward her with a canteen full of water, she’d smelled the scent of musk, pine, and gunpowder—something deep, intense, and dark. Everything inside her had screamed that he was her mate. Her inner cougar was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt. But how was that possible? They were stranded in the middle of nowhere on some uncharted Caribbean island. How could she find her mate out there? It must all be a dream.
Then he had come into view, and she'd seen his face. He was so handsome and rugged with bright-blue eyes that were so full of duty and darkness all at once. She’d nearly gone weak in the knees but had instead accepted the water and drank it down almost in one gulp. He had brought her to his camp, where she’d been overwhelmed by all of his supplies—the technical gadgets, the tent, the water filter. It was all too perfect. Then he'd fed her and given her a place to sleep.
Now as she gazed at him through the flickering firelight, she was convinced that she was dreaming. She had to be. She must still be on the raft, dying of dehydration and sun exposure.
Finally, she decided that if this was a dream and she was about to die, she might as well enjoy it. At least her mind was giving her a final pleasant hallucination of a hunky mate. Stephanie crawled out of the tent. The man’s eyes brightened when he saw her. He handed her the canteen of water, and she drank it without saying a word. She drained the canteen yet again and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Thank you," she tried to say, but it came out as a silent croak. Then she remembered she couldn't speak.
"It's okay," he said. “Your voice will come back soon.”
She nodded, remembering how she’d screamed and screamed and how dry her mouth and throat had been after swallowing all that salt water and throwing it back up again. She must have temporary laryngitis. She let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping. She had so many questions. She didn't even know the name of this gorgeous guy who her inner puma insisted was her mate. She pointed to him and widened her eyes.