by Ava Walsh
I wonder if he hibernates.
She shook her head, dispelling the thought. It didn't matter. She had to get out of here before her family found out where she was and made her go home. How would her father punish her for her disobedience? She didn't want to find out.
Still, she was strangely reluctant to leave the cozy cabin and the Bear who had rescued her from the blizzard. She would have liked to have looked into his eyes one last time.
The pine trees were heavy with snow, branches that normally pointed upright almost flat from the weight on them. It would be a perfect day for playing goose hunt with her younger siblings–Mary bit back a pang of regret. She had to look after herself now! They probably won't even miss me.
She rounded a corner, and there was Andre. He stood in the middle of the road, bare-chested, looking godlike with the snowy background. Mary stopped in her tracks.
"I told you I can't let you leave."
It was all he needed to say. Mary's ears flattened against her head, and she turned.
A sudden thought occurred to her – she was naked! Even with her thick coat of fur, she was naked, and he was looking right at her! She tucked her tail between her legs, pressing it flat against her belly, and glanced back. Andre looked like he was laughing, and she scampered back along the road, embarrassment burning in her cheeks.
***
Andre didn't follow to make sure she returned to the cabin. Or at least, she didn't think he did. She waited a while in the building, keeping the fire going, but after pacing for several hours, she couldn't do anything anymore and got to work.
By the time dusk had fallen, she had washed all the dishes and had started on the laundry. Andre didn't have a machine, but he did have a large bathing tub in the bathroom, and plenty of bars of soap. Mary started with the shirts, scrubbing one at a time before wringing them out and spreading them on the chairs and table to dry. After that, she washed all the towels, realizing that she was going to want to bathe herself before too long, and needed something clean to dry off with.
It was dusk before Andre returned to the cabin. Mary savored his look of surprise as he surveyed her work. While the clothes she had been washing were still damp and spread everywhere, there was a neatness now that had been lacking before.
He looked under the table and frowned. "Where are all my pants?"
"In the bathroom by the sink. It's more efficient to keep the clean clothes separated from the dirty ones." Mary hid a smirk as she added another log to the fire and stepped to the stove to stir the bubbling pot on it. "Soup's ready. Are you hungry?"
Andre stared at her as if soup was a totally foreign concept. Mary cleared an area on the table and dished out two bowls of soup.
"Well, I am glad you're keeping yourself busy," he said stiffly. "Tomorrow I'll show you where the woodshed is—"
"No need. I found it earlier." Mary gestured at the neat stack of logs she had put in the little alcove next to the fireplace. "I also saw that you have four sheep and a goat. Your ewe looks like she's about ready to give birth."
Andre nodded, cautiously sipping a spoonful of soup.
Mary watched him a moment, then took a deep breath. "Andre, I know that you're afraid that I will tell my family about you, but I won't. The truth is, I wasn't going to the city to visit a grandmother. I was running away."
He set his spoon down. "I thought you might be. You don't like your husband, then?"
Heat flared in her cheeks. "I'm not married."
Andre's eyes widened as if he couldn't believe it. "No? Why not?"
"I…" Mary's chin dropped, and she gazed at the carrot bits in the soup. "Nobody wants me. I'm not pretty."
"I wouldn't say that."
"You mean I could be pretty." She'd heard it often enough. You would be so pretty if you just dropped a few pounds. Mostly from her mother. But whenever she tried, whether eating less or waking up extra early so she could go for a walk before her chores began, she just ended up exhausted all the time, and hating her body even more. She had resigned herself to being 'almost' pretty long ago, preferring to feeling healthy enough to do her chores.
"No, I mean you are pretty. You're beautiful."
Mary's eyes widened. She didn't know how to respond, so she bent over her soup, cheeks growing hot.
"The roads are too dangerous for the time being," Andre said suddenly. "We're not on a major highway, so the state does little more than scrape the snow off the asphalt. But once the snow clears and winter is over, I'll take you to the city so you can fly away."
Mary's eyes widened. "Really?"
He nodded. "Really. In the meantime, I think I might enjoy having a werewolf around if you cook like this for every meal."
Her heart glowed at the compliment. "Oh, I can," she promised. "If there's one thing I am good at, it's cooking."
"Good," Andre smiled at her. "Good."
She felt herself beam in return. Maybe she would like living here after all.
Chapter Four
Two weeks after Andre first brought her to his home, their meat supply began to run low. Andre told Mary he was going hunting, and she assured him that she could take care of everything just fine for a day. He disappeared into the forest with his Bear and didn't look back once, trusting her to stay.
Secretly, Mary was glad that he would be out for longer than normal–she needed to string a clothesline across the main room so that she could finally wash up the blankets and pillows. She was still sleeping in the bed though she had given up several of the blankets to try to make him a little more comfortable on the floor beside the fire. Once she almost suggested they share, but was too uncertain of herself.
"First things first," she told herself as she brought in lots of extra wood to keep the cabin nice and hot. "Blankets and sheets, then scrub the floors and wash down the cupboards."
Though she had smelled no rodents when she searched the cabin with her Wolf, when making breakfast that morning, she found evidence that mice had been in the cupboards at one time. While she didn't mind mice, she didn't enjoy the thought of their filth getting into her food, and was determined to sanitize everything.
It took several hours to wash the bedding and clean the floors and cupboards. By the time she was done, Mary's hands were dry and chapped, but she felt a surge of pride surveying what she had accomplished. Back home whenever she finished a lot of work she just felt tired and cranky, but here, though she was physically exhausted, there was excitement bubbling in her that made her want to continue working and have something to be proud of.
Maybe this is how it feels to get a job done in your own home, she mused. My home.
Yes, she could definitely think of this place as home. Mary smiled to herself. Once she was away, she'd have to find a little farm of her own.
Once she was away. Her smile faded. She glanced around at the little room, the clock on the mantle, the sink that was just a little too high for her, the cupboards she had to stand on a chair to reach, the blankets draped across the ropes she had strung crisscrossed across the room.
I don't want to leave. She liked it here, and she liked Andre. As gruff as he was, he was always polite, always complimented and thanked her for her work, and at nights, if she shyly asked him what a word meant in a book she was reading, he answered without any derision.
"Well, I have to. I can't stay here. Not with a Bear. He doesn't want me to stay anyway."
Tears pricked her eyes, and she scrubbed them away angrily, hurrying to the bedroom for some books. There was one in particular that her father had absolutely forbidden her to read when she first saw it in the library, and now she wanted to know why.
Around five, it began to darken outside. As Andre hadn't yet returned, Mary put supper in the oven and went out to feed the animals.
Inside the barn was warmer than outside it, but it was still chilly. Mary shivered, glad that Andre had old jackets hanging on the barn door. She pulled on one that was too tight across her shoulders and marveled – h
ow had a man the size of a Bear ever fit this? It helped her stay warm, though, and that was the important thing.
She had already fed the sheep and goat, the only animals in the barn, spread out new straw for their bedding when she realized something was wrong. Only three sheep were eating.
The pregnant ewe was laying on her side away from the other animals. Her sides heaved, and spasms shook her intermittently. Mary climbed over the side of the stall, rushing to the ewe's side. The other sheep and goat huddled together at the far end, whether for warmth or because they were afraid of her, she didn't know.
Her breath wasn't puffing out visibly, but Mary was struck by the thought that it was far too cold for a lamb in this old barn. She patted the ewe's head and shrugged off her jacket, laying it over the animal. She had never helped with an animal birth, but she'd witnessed all her siblings be born, helped the midwife occasionally, and it couldn't be that much different.
Could it?
***
The hunt was unsuccessful, and Andre prowled around the forest longer than he intended, walking off the growl in his chest before he returned home to Mary. It was always frustrating when he couldn't find anything to hunt, and he needed meat! The beans Mary had begun to cut their meals with were tasty but unsatisfying.
His heart lifted when he emerged in the clearing where his little log cabin stood. The sight of home, and knowing it wasn't empty, cheered him up immensely. He hadn't felt happy to come home since he lost his wife and daughter all those years ago.
As he strode to the barn to dress before heading to the cabin itself, he could smell something delicious cooking, and his stomach rumbled. He liked having Mary around, and not just because she cooked. He liked the way she laughed, the way she listened to him when he talked, and her never-ending questions when she read his books.
She had such a thirst for knowledge, and he cursed her father for preventing his eldest daughter from getting all the education she desired. Locke had a lot of sins to his name, but to treat his own child as a slave? It was unthinkable.
But he knew why he could never ask her to stay. She deserved more freedom than he could offer.
When he entered the cabin, a waft of smoke blew into his eyes, making them water. Andre coughed, reeling back. The black fumes billowed from the oven, filling the room. He rushed forward, getting caught in ropes that were spider-webbed through the room.
"I thought I turned it off!" Mary cried, slipped under his arm. She shot towards the oven, yanking the door open. Black smoke belched into her face. As she dragged a roaster pan from inside it, Andre heard something bleating.
His head swiveled, and his eyes locked on a sheep lying next to the fireplace. Its little lamb stood next to its head, still slick from being born, and it 'baaed' as its mother licked it. Towels were nested around the mother and lamb, stained from birthing fluids. A pile of books was scattered over the table.
"I'm sorry," Mary said.
He turned back to her and saw tears running down her face. Her lip wobbled as she held the roaster pan. Some black mass was inside it.
Mary set the pan down, and a sob shook her shoulders. "I'm sorry."
Andre found himself laughing. It was all so surreal. Mary's perfect homemaking skills failing so dramatically reminded him that life was messy and complicated, but somehow everything that was in this room, from the bedclothes getting saturated with smoke to the sheep that would have been just fine in the barn, to Mary staring at him as though he had lost his mind, everything was far more perfect than he could imagine.
"Andre?" She cautiously touched his shoulder.
He didn't know why he did it, but he suddenly wanted to kiss her, and so he did. She was warm in his arms, her voluminous body pressed against his, so soft, so real. His hands tangled into her beautiful black hair, and her arms wound around his chest. Heat rose in him, a spark forming between their lips as she closed her eyes and melted against him.
***
Every inch of skin that touched him exploded with fireworks. Mary pressed herself deeper into Andre's embrace. She had given up her dream that anybody would ever hold like this, arms around her so tightly as though he would never let her go. And yet here she was, in the arms of a man who was more beautiful than she ever hoped in her wildest dreams. Her whole body seemed to glow as his mouth pressed her lips open. Tongues danced. She clung to him, feeling her Wolf howling in delight, her chest so full she thought she might burst.
Abruptly he pulled away.
Mary blinked, reeling, as Andre backed away from her. She panted, not understanding what had happened. For a moment she thought she had imagined it all; the kiss, the passion.
Andre shook his head. "You can sleep by the fire tonight. I need a better sleep so I can hunt properly tomorrow."
He yanked the nearest blanket off the clothesline and stalked into the bedroom, closing it with a solid thump. Mary stood in the smoky room, the chill of winter slowly replacing the warmth of the fire. She hurried to the door and closed it before she sagged against the wall. A trembling hand pressed to her lips, her head light and dizzy.
What happened?
Chapter Five
Even if she had the softest mattress in the world, Mary would not have slept well that night. It wasn't the ewe, that seemed to take forever to settle down, or the little lamb, who woke Mary up every few hours butting her in the head. It wasn't the hard floor biting into her hips and leaving her shoulders stiff and achy. It wasn't even the lingering smoke, which made her end up coughing for several hours before it dissipated.
It was the kiss.
She had been kissed before. When she was sixteen, she had been courted by a human from town. He had pressed his mouth to hers before he and his family moved away. But that kiss, though he had held her in his arms and tentatively ran his tongue over her lips, had none of the fire, none of the spark, which was in the kiss she had shared with Andre the previous night.
The way her blood surged and her wolf sung… She knew what that meant.
"I hope you were warm enough," she said the next morning when he emerged from his room.
"I was fine. Were you comfortable?"
"Comfortable enough." Her lips pressed closed. She knew what she wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it. "So you're going to hunt?"
The fake cheerfulness in her voice was enough to make her wince. Andre graciously pretended not to notice anything untoward, however. He muttered something that sounded like a confirmation and walked over to the ewe. Mary watched him pet the sheep's head as she filled a bowl with cream-of-wheat cereal.
He was gentle with the little lamb as he checked it over. His giant hands could have crushed the tiny thing in an instant, but instead, they ran lightly over its back and along its legs. It cried as he picked it up, kicking slightly, and Andre chuckled, murmuring comforting words. The ewe looked unconcerned.
"A fine little ram," Andre announced. He smiled broadly, making the bass clef scar on his cheek pinch together like a second smile. "But what possessed you to bring them into the house?"
Heat flared in her face. "It was so cold out there."
"Then you should have turned up the heat."
Mary rolled her eyes at that. "Yes, I'll just dial up the sun."
"There is an electric heater in the barn."
"Oh." She hadn't seen any electric heater. But then, she didn't look for one. "I didn't know."
"It's fine. I think the little guy is pretty happy in here. I'll help you clean up after I've got them settled out there."
"Have some breakfast first," Mary said quickly, pushing the bowl of hot cereal towards him. She had to say this quickly, or she was going to lose her nerve! But how to start? "Do Bears mate for life?"
His head jerked towards her, and something flashed in his black eyes, as though she had said something wrong. She stared back, holding her breath. Andre studied her for a moment and moved to the table. He sat with a grunt and stared into his bowl.
"We are as monog
amous as humans. Different Bears have different ways of displaying their affection. Some of us find only one mate and stay with them for life, some find new mates if theirs die or leave them, others never do."
"But do you have soulmates?" Mary pressed, clutching the back of a chair.
"Soulmates?"
"Wolves have soulmates. My grandmother told me when I was a child. For every Wolf, there is one partner, one mate that completes their soul. When they meet, their souls knit together. They are never whole without one another."
Andre's face was blank, and then his lips curved upwards. "That sounds very fantastical to me."
"But it's true," Mary insisted. Her heart pounded in her ears, and the words tripped over one another as she tried to get them out. "When a Wolf meets their soulmate, they know. They just know."
Andre looked away and shook his head. "It's just a story that Wolves use to control their children. Your grandmother told you about soulmates so that you wouldn't mate with just anybody. It's just a myth."
Her hands began to shake. "But it's true."
You're my soulmate. It's why I trusted you when you brought me here, even though you are a Bear. It's why I knew you wouldn't hurt me. It's why I want to stay! Let me stay. The fire between them with that kiss only served to solidify her surety. She had found her soulmate, and if she left him, she would never be whole again.
"You think it's because of the kiss," he said softly. He stood, and she stared up into his black eyes, hoping to see some flicker in them that told her he felt the same way. "You think because you felt like you were leaving your body, that you felt closer to me than anyone before, that it means we are soulmates?"
Her breath caught in her chest. He felt it too! He knew.
"My soul sings when I'm near you."
She raised her face to him as his giant hands closely wrapped around her hair, bringing her closer to him. Their lips pressed, opened. Her soul called to him. Mary closed her eyes, feeling that irresistible pull towards him, her body aching to be joined forever with his. A feeling of euphoria, of completeness, filled her.