His nose and fingers were now human, I noticed, and he was carefully touching his face as if to make sure it was. When he was satisfied with what his fingers found, he looked over at me again.
“Hi,” I said softly. I didn’t move. My small fire was between the two of us, and I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d try if I let him get too close. Last night’s attack was still weighing heavily in my mind.
His jaw worked for a moment, he blinked, and then coughed out a “Hi,” back to me.
I smiled, pleased to hear his voice. “You forget how to talk?”
He swallowed hard, grimaced, and dropped to a low crouch again, as if standing erect was hard on him. “Been….awhile.”
“I understand. You need me to give you a moment?”
He shook his head, that long, tangled hair swaying. “I… fine.”
“Okay.” I didn’t move, though. I just dropped into a low crouch, my legs clamped tightly together to tamp down some of the smell of my body. After a moment, I blurted, “You going to attack me again?”
Leif shook his head again, this time savagely. “Lost… control. Came to apologize. Was…not myself.” He looked so disgusted with himself that I couldn’t stifle a smile.
“I noticed,” I said, my tone wry. In truth, I was glad to hear him admit that. If he hadn’t realized his reaction was inappropriate, I’d have been worried. I didn’t mention that my oncoming heat was the reason he’d attacked me.
I didn’t want him to turn and run away all over again once he found out my true intentions. Hi, I’m here to make a baby with you. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go over so well.
“You’re a bear shifter?” He asked, his voice still slow and creaky, as if he’d forgotten how to speak and the memory was slow to return.
I frowned at that. “You don’t remember me?”
He shook his head, his blue-eyed gaze glassy. He shifted on his bare feet in the snow, and I realized he was probably cold. The Antarctic weather was bitter, even for a shifter. I stood slowly and reached for my torn sleeping bag, then tossed it to him.
Leif watched it roll to his feet, his thick brows wrinkling as he regarded it.
“Put it on,” I said helpfully, and mimed shrugging it around my shoulders.
He watched me for a moment, then did as I instructed, unrolling the bag and then wrapping it around his shoulders. After a moment, recognition dawned and he pulled it tighter around his body. “It’s warm. Thank you.”
“What do you remember?” I asked cautiously.
He thought for a moment, then glanced at my fire. “I remember that smell.”
“Fire?” When he shook his head, I pointed at the small silver pot sitting in the coals. “Coffee?”
A smile creased his mouth, and he flashed white teeth. “Yes, that’s it.”
I was a little dazed by the sheer masculine beauty of that smile, and couldn’t help but smile back. “Do you want some?”
He nodded, and shifted a little closer to the fire, gaze on it.
Well, this was a start. I wasn’t sure how I felt about coffee being the bigger lure than my company, but I’d take what I could get. It was disturbing that Leif didn’t remember me…or how to wear clothes. Or much of anything. I wondered if his mind had been damaged by going totally shifter for the last decade and a half. Most that went native never came back. They just disappeared into the wild and never returned.
Maybe there was a reason they never returned.
I pulled out my one thermos, rinsed it with some clean snow, and poured coffee in. Then, I extended it to him over the small, flickering fire.
He reached for it, and his fingers brushed mine. Warm, strong. His scent brushed over me and I felt a low shiver of pleasure in my belly. That’s the heat talking, Nikolina, I reminded myself. “So you don’t remember me?”
Leif raised the thermos to his mouth and drank. He grimaced at the taste, but then took another sip, as if not quite sure if he liked it or not. I smiled at his reaction. I liked my coffee super strong and bitter, and black as night. He stared down at his cup, and then squinted at me. “I seem to recall this tasting better.”
I chuckled at his displeased expression. “I didn’t bring sugar with me. Sorry.”
He grunted, and then turned his gaze on me, studying my face. I held my breath for a long moment, but then he shook his head. “I don’t remember you.”
“I’m Nikolina. Nikolina Aasen. I was ten when you left.”
“How old are you now?”
Was he not aware of how many years had passed? “I’m twenty-six.”
He stared down at the coffee thermos in his hands for so long that it grew uncomfortable. Then, he looked back up at me. “How old am I?”
I bit my lip. “You were eighteen when you left, so that would make you thirty-four.”
His brows drew down, as if he were surprised to hear that. “I see.”
I wanted to ask him if he remembered why he’d left, but I couldn’t. What if he didn’t remember that Katja had died? What if it broke his heart all over again and he ran once more? I swallowed hard. “Do you remember…anything else?”
“Not much.” He took another sip of coffee and shifted on his feet. I tried not to stare at his junk, dangling between his crouching legs. It was hard not to, though. It was just…out there. And prominent. Leif spoke again. “My memories are clouded. It’s mostly snow…and penguins.”
I smiled at that. “That’s all this island seems to be.”
He nodded. “I don’t think…” he blinked and looked at me, really focused. “I don’t think I like the way they taste.”
I laughed at that, surprised at his rueful admission.
Leif looked startled at my laughter, his muscles tensing. Then, he relaxed, and I watched his eyes crinkle at the corners, and his mouth pulled up into a return smile. “I like that sound.”
That soft flutter returned to my belly, and I clamped my legs tighter together, though for an entirely different reason this time. This time, it was desire.
He stared at me intensely for a long moment, and then his head tilted. “You are wounded.”
I touched the long scratch on my cheek. It throbbed when I thought about it, so I was doing my best not to. “Not badly.”
“Was it…me?” His mouth twisted, the smile disappearing. “Did I hurt you?”
I gave a small nod. I didn’t want to lie to him.
His face fell and he looked down at the coffee thermos in his hands. Very slowly, he set it down on the far side of the fire. Then, he stood, shrugging off the sleeping bag.
“Wait,” I said, “don’t go.” We were making progress.
But when I got to my feet, he loped away and began to change.
Frustrated, I dropped back down to my crouch and stared at his retreating figure, already turning into his bear form within a few paces. Damn it. Leif’s psyche was fragile. I’d have to tread carefully with him. I needed to get him to return, and coax him into spending more time in human form with me.
I picked up the coffee thermos and finished it off. Tomorrow, I’d brew more coffee and see what I could prepare in my supplies bag that might entice him back out for a visit.
The next morning, the scent of were-bear shifter was heavy over my campsite. I’d slept in my tent after stitching back together the pieces of my sleeping bag, and the fact that Leif had been exploring while I slept but hadn’t bothered me was pleasing. It meant he was aware of who I was and was curious enough to keep returning.
That was a good sign.
Pleased, I broke out some of my supplies and dug through them, trying to figure out what I could make over a fire. I’d stashed some chocolate away - I was hormonal thanks to the heat, and so it had seemed like a great idea. I dug out some of the chocolate and made a new pot of coffee - a bit weaker this time, in anticipation of Leif’s return. And then, I stirred a bit of my precious chocolate into the coffee and let it melt, sweetening it.
I didn’t drink it. I waited for Lei
f to show.
And waited.
And waited. While I waited, I pulled out my small sewing kit and tightened the stitches on my sleeping bag. I’d hastily stitched it last night but found that even the smallest gaps let the frigid air in, so I was busy re-stitching it and tightening it.
Just as I was finishing my stitches, the wind shifted and I caught the scent of were-bear on the breeze. I dropped my sewing and lifted my head, just in time to see a large mass of brown moving in the snowy hills in the distance.
“Leif?” I called out.
No response.
“Leif? I made some coffee for you again. It tastes better today, I promise,” I called. Could he even understand me when he was shifted? I could understand English just fine when I was in my bear form, but I also hadn’t spent sixteen straight years in that form.
But to my relief, Leif appeared - human Leif - a few minutes later. He looked uncertain, lurking around the edges of the camp as if afraid to come closer. His eyes watched me warily, and they were the eyes of a feral predator once more, almost all humanity gone from them.
I patted the sleeping bag next to me in invitation. I spread it out like a picnic blanket and then put the thermos of chocolate-sweetened coffee down on the center of it, and unscrewed the lid so he could catch the smell. I’d had to dump nearly a full bar of chocolate to sweeten the drink properly, but the scent that wafted up was rich and thick.
He hesitated only a moment, and then moved to sit on the blanket, wrapping his hands around the thermos. He sipped it, then closed his eyes in pleasure. “Nikolina,” he groaned.
I was startled to hear my name said like that. I supposed that was his way of saying thank you, but it was…odd. Pleasing, but odd. “You’re welcome,” I told him, and then shifted to pull the blanket around his shoulders to protect him from the biting wind. It was bitterly cold despite the sunshine and I was wearing several layers of clothing. Seeing Leif naked like that made me concerned for frostbite, despite his were-bear nature. “Do you want something to eat?”
He studied my face for a long moment, and then nodded. “If you…if you have it to spare.”
“I do.” I’d brought plenty of protein bars with me. They weren’t exciting food, but they were compact and I was able to bring a lot of them. I unwrapped a chocolate-flavored one and offered it to him, since he seemed to have a sweet tooth.
Leif took it and ate it quickly, wolfing it down. It concerned me to see him scarf the food, and I wondered if it had more to do with starvation than a lack of manners. He said he didn’t like penguin, but there wasn’t much more on this island than penguins. Maybe that was why he was so lean. “Do you want another?”
At his nod, I gave him another and watched him eat. When he was done, he returned to sipping his coffee, his gaze on me.
I didn’t move. Simply watched him and smiled encouragingly.
After a long moment, he reached out and touched my cheek with one dirty finger, caressing me. “I’m sorry.”
About the scratch there? It was almost gone. “Don’t’ worry about it,” I told him. “It’s healing up. And you weren’t in your right mind.”
I knew what that was like. Going in heat was more than a little alarming, because my body was so…hungry for it. I feared what I’d be acting like in another two weeks or so when the heat truly hit me. As shifter females, we had a fairly long lead time up to our heat. I supposed it was so we could make the proper preparations, but it also meant there was a lot of time to worry and anticipate.
Leif’s fingers continued to caress the curve of my cheek, the pads cool and rough on my skin. His gaze seemed to darken with intensity. “Nikolina,” he whispered again.
I shivered at the way he said my name. It sounded so…intense. Emotional. “Can I show you something?” I asked him.
He nodded.
Even though it pained me to pull away from his gentle touch, I stood and moved to my tent, digging out the small wooden carving I’d brought with me. I sat back down next to him and held it out.
It was a small wooden carving of a female bear with a tutu on her waist, balancing on a ball.
He took it from me, and wonder flashed across his face. A smile broke out. “I remember this.”
My breath caught. “You do?”
“I do…” He thought for a long moment, and then looked at me. “I remember a girl with pigtails and a pink tutu. She was pouting because her cousins could shift into bear form and she couldn’t yet.”
I swallowed hard, my heart aching at the memory. “And you carved this figurine and gave it to me because you wanted me to feel better.”
“I remember,” he said with a nod. He glanced over at me, and his hand went to my hair, twisted into two long braids at the sides of my face. “It’s almost the same color as before.”
“Almost,” I said, smiling. “My family is born blonde and stays blonde.”
His long fingers moved across my face, and brushed at the gold ring in my nostril. “I don’t remember this, though.”
I laughed. “I went through a rebellious phase.”
“Why?”
I hesitated at that soft, blunt question, and then decided to answer it honestly. “My fiancée, Ramsey, was cast out of the bear clans until he apologized. He was fifteen. It didn’t look like he’d ever come back to marry me, so I decided I’d do what I wanted. I pierced my nose and dyed my hair black.”
He studied me for a moment longer, and his fingers continued to caress my face. “But your hair’s not black anymore.”
“It’s not,” I agreed. “It looked awful. But I liked the nose ring, so I kept it.”
“How long did it take for Ramsey to come back for you?”
The question hurt more than I thought it would. “He…he didn’t come back.” Tears pricked at my eyes, the ache of rejection still as painful now as it had been on the first day. “He mated a wolf-shifter.”
“Then he’s a fool,” Leif said simply. His fingers brushed at the tears that threatened to freeze to my lashes. “And he’s not worth your pain.”
“I know,” I told him. “But it’s a hard thing to forget.”
A wry smile curved his mouth. “I seem to be good at forgetting.”
I almost agreed with him, but held back. It seemed impolite to point out just how much he’d forgotten. I wanted to ask him what he remembered of why he’d run away, but it seemed he didn’t want to bring it up, and I was reluctant to be the one to approach the topic. “How are you feeling today?”
His hand dropped, and he picked up his mug again. Drank. Thought. Then he looked at me. “I’m troubled.”
“Troubled?”
He nodded. “I figure something bad must have happened for me to come so far away and hide.”
Oh. “It did,” I said softly.
“What was it?”
“You sure you want me to tell you?”
“I’m not sure at all,” he said. “But I also wonder why you’re here, after sixteen years.”
I’m going into heat and I need a were-bear mate and you’re the only one left that’s not sixty or related. But the words lodged in my throat. “You can’t guess why I’ve come?”
He shook his head, his tangled hair flying. He looked like a wild man in that moment, so feral that I again questioned my sense in coming here. “I should know, though, shouldn’t I?” He tipped the thermos up and finished it, then offered it back to me. “Don’t tell me anything, actually. I want to see what comes back on its own.”
I nodded. “And if it doesn’t come back?”
“Then it might be a blessing,” Leif said. He stretched and got to his feet, and then gave me a shy smile before turning to leave once more.
I let him go, my thoughts muddy and confused. Part of me wanted to hold on to him, to have him stick around so we could keep talking…but Leif knew there was a problem. He knew me being here wasn’t normal, and needed to figure it out.
Because if he didn’t remember Katja’s death, it was g
oing to come as a shock to him all over again….and I didn’t want to be the one to blurt it out.
I didn’t know what to do.
So I watched him go and said nothing.
He didn’t return that day, but the next morning, when I awoke, I found that a blocky, crude bear had been sculpted into the snow on one of the ridges near my camp.
Upon seeing it, I laughed and clapped my hands. So there was hope after all.
Chapter Three
Every day for the next week, Leif stopped by for breakfast. I sweetened his coffee with all of my chocolate and shared my protein bars with him. If I ran out of supplies, well, I’d just go home that much earlier. Each day that Leif showed up, he was a little more coherent, a little more alert, and stayed a little longer. I took out my sewing kit and let out the seams in some of my clothes, cobbling a few shirts together to give him a piecemeal top and a pair of (admittedly) ugly pants to wear. I made him a pair of booties out of pieces of my sleeping bag. I was tearing through my supplies, but that was okay, too. I felt like progress was being had, and anything I could do to turn Leif a bit more human, I was all for it.
Having him around camp was far more enjoyable than I’d expected. There was a shyness to Leif, but also an alpha rawness to his mannerisms. It was like he was deliberately being careful around me, conscious of the fact that he’d hurt me while mindless. Now, he seemed just as determined to treat me with kid gloves. Every morning, I’d wake up and find a new sculpture left in a snow drift nearby - a penguin, a reindeer, a mermaid…and the mermaid had looked like me, right down to my braids and nose-piercing. I’d laughed with delight at the sight of it. Leif was finding his artistry again, and in doing so, seemed to be finding himself.
It had been several days since I’d had the opportunity to bathe, though, and I was feeling grimy. I’d noticed little rings of dirt under Leif’s nail beds as well, and decided that both of us could use a bit of a cleaning. Of course, being that it was the Antarctic, it was difficult to get the urge to bathe when it was so chilly outside.
Bear Naked (Midnight Liaisons) Page 3