The Soul of a Bear

by Amelia Wilson

  “That must’ve been scary.” McKayla’s observation caused me to nod, and her damp hair tickled my chin. This morning, the events and the conversation had both given me a light, airy feeling that permeated my entire being. Now, I had someone to talk to about all of this stuff - these things I couldn’t bring up with Jon because it involved him.

  “Terrifying - yeah. I had nightmares for months. Jon made these horrible sounds that I just wasn’t equipped to handle, at the time. The easier it became for him to shift, the better I got, though. His mom once made a joke that we’d be mates if one of us was a woman.”

  McKayla gave me a genuine laugh at that, and I cracked a smile at the scene as it played in my head. Jon and I had been in our early twenties at the time, and it made us both uncomfortable. I never went so far as to say our friendship suffered from that joke, but it took a while to get back to the way we were.

  Safe to say, I didn’t want Jon anywhere near me and vice versa.

  “That happens to bear shifter cubs, sort - mostly females. Bears, like all shifters, will go through the process during puberty - you know. Since bears are usually born in succession, the younger ones visually experience what’s going to happen to them and really start to freak out on a subconscious level. It’s worse in females, but common in males, too. After a while, when they see things getting easier, they start to feel more comfortable that the pain won’t last long. I bet that’s what happened to Lucy, and it only compounded the things she was going through with her parents - which also are pretty common, unfortunately.” The informational rant was filled with a mix of things I knew and didn’t know, and I exhaled slowly as I processed it all. I didn’t even bother to contemplate how she knew about Lucy’s past, focusing instead on the more pertinent information.

  “You know …” Speaking up slowly, I squeezed McKayla to my side gently and kept my gaze on the ceiling. “Sometimes, I look around and wonder why I have this life. Why I have this family that can do things I can’t do, and why I wish so badly that I could. Ever since I got back from Alaska, I’ve had it worse, and I don’t know why. It’s been a thing for years, but I always brushed it off.”

  My deepest, most depressing thoughts - the wish I’d wished since I was a teenager - came out in a soft whisper. I knew there was no way to turn a human into a shifter, but damn if I didn’t want that. McKayla snuggled into my side, her palm resting firmly against my steadily-beating heart, and I covered her hand with mine.

  There was nothing she could say, I knew, to make any of it better, though.

  Chapter Eleven: McKayla

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Paul? We don’t have to do this tonight, you know.” Glancing over the center seat of Paul’s rather large truck, I nibbled my bottom lip absentmindedly, and he nodded firmly. His expression was set deep in determination; his hands firm on the wheel, as he navigated towards the suburbs, and he didn’t look away from the road as he opened his mouth.

  “I’m fine, babe. It’s just a headache. With all of the work I’ve been doing in the shop - all the stress - I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” My eyes narrowed as Paul’s gruff voice caressed my ears, and I slowly scanned his form. He could’ve been nervous; I certainly wouldn’t blame him for being anxious about ‘meeting’ my mom officially.

  “You’re sweating.” Bland and monotonous, my declaration caused Paul to purse his lips together, and I rubbed my bracelet-clad wrist in slight agitation. “Paul, I’m serious. We can reschedule. It won’t make you look bad, I promise.”

  “I don’t want to reschedule, McKayla. This is important for me, okay? It’s not about looking bad or anything - trust m e- but this is the first time I’m having a conversation with your mom that involves more than pleasantries over a plate of store-bought, frozen cake.” Frowning slightly, I sat back in my seat and let the conversation drop, no matter how unhappy I was. Paul had said, and my mother had reiterated, that they knew each other. They just didn’t know much, but they were both excited; my mom, because she knew Paul was a great man, and Paul, because she was my mom.

  But Paul was damn near working himself to death trying to get his apartment squared away, and he hadn’t even started on the place yet. On top of running his business, he’d organized everything to clean up the mess his brother had made, and he had jumped into looking for a good foreclosure to buy.

  All of it within the past week- it was just too much for one person, and it showed.

  “Is that your mom’s house?” I was so stuck in my thoughts that I didn’t realize how close we were until Paul spoke up with alarm coloring his voice. Leaning forward to stare out the windshield, my jaw dropped at the number of cars that lined the entire block. The stench of shifter hit me, now that I wasn’t immersed in my head, and I scrunched up my nose as despair wailed against my skull.

  “Oh, no …” Dread laced my whisper as I caught sight of the brightly colored balloons tied to the mailbox, and I sat back with a hard thud while Paul hit the brakes a little harder than necessary. “This is bad. I thought it was just going to be us three - that’s what she told me. I swear to God, I didn’t know this was going to happen, Paul.”

  “What - what’s happening? You know what - you were right. Fuck this - I’m turning around.”

  “Wait!” I reached for his arm and stopped Paul from turning his massive hunk of shiny, well-maintained metal in the middle of the street. He stopped completely, and his glare was as hot as his skin underneath his button-down as I rushed to speak up. “It’s not bad … it’s a mating celebration. And judging by the amount of people, everyone showed up - my mom’s side and my dad’s. It’s tradition.”

  I knew this was stressful for Paul, and I beat down my own turmoil about my father for his sake. He paled, looking ready to throw up; his demeanor crumbled completely compared to when we’d spoken in his office. His reaction just proved to me how badly he was feeling, and I scooted over into the middle seat to rub his shoulder soothingly.

  “If we don’t go, we’ll be ostracized - it’s something the families have done for as long as anyone can remember.” Now, I wished I had insisted harder that we postpone this meeting, but it was too late. A purplish-red anger took over Paul’s expression, and I reached up to trace his smooth scalp, as this sparked a hot annoyance in my chest. “We’ll only stay an hour - not even. But we have to go.”

  “Why? Fuck them, McKayla - seriously, I refuse to stand around pretending like I care about what your -” I cut Paul’s pissed off, venomous spitting with a finger to his lips, and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. His eyes sparkled and roiled with such tumultuous emotion that it almost hurt to keep his gaze, but I managed, as my beast rose up to soothe him.

  “It’s not just my dad - my mom’s side is here, too. And if we don’t go, they’ll make it hard for me and her to have any type of close relationship. Trust me - I’ve seen it before with my cousin. He disrespected the tradition, and his own parents abandoned him. Our human sides are connected, yes, but our bear sides are much easier to give in to. Bears are naturally solitary animals, Paul.” Slowly, so slowly, Paul seemed to really realize the full impact of this event, and he sucked in a sharp breath that left me cold. “I know - I know it sucks. I really, really don’t want to be involved either, but it’s just an hour. My mom’s side doesn’t like my dad already - they’ll have no problem if you don’t, either. Just - please, Paul.”

  “… Fine. But if your father even glances at me, I’m going to beat the shit out of him.” Relief slumped my shoulders, and Paul turned back to the road to roll towards my mother’s empty driveway. The closer we came, the louder the noise became, the sharper the smells of food and people, and anxiety quickly replaced the lost tension in my muscles.

  Betrayal wedged in my heart, but I wasn’t mad at my mother, exactly. She knew I’d never consent to any of this, and that was why she’d lied. I could understand that- but she’d still lied.

  “One hour, McKayla.” Paul shut his door OVERLY carefully,
as he spoke over the truck, and I nodded firmly as I rounded the front. I stared at the daunting walkway that led to the backyard, trying to drown out the sounds of people talking, laughing, and the smell of whatever was on a barbeque. Coming up next to me, he took my hand to entwine our fingers tightly, and I held back just as hard.

  As we rounded the garage, I worked on keeping my thoughts positive, and I hoped my growing vibe would rub off on Paul. This wasn’t an all bad thing, I told myself.

  There were people here I liked. People I liked that I haven’t seen in years. People that were genuinely happy for me and weren’t here to start drama. My mom likes to have a good party every once and a while. She’s probably happy beyond her wits to finally throw this celebration, since she never got her own.

  I repeated those rationalizations over and over again, silently, and I was surprised at how much it worked. My lips turned up in a smile when I heard my uncle’s familiar, boisterous laughter, and little voices of children tickled my ears. The smell of meat caused my mouth to water, and the scent of vegetables charring tangled in the air.

  If nothing else, the food would be great.

  By the time we reached the wooden gate that surrounded the yard, Paul had relaxed some, too, and that only brightened my mood. Unfastening the latch, I took a deep breath to steady myself before swinging the gate open. The squeal of unoiled hinges crackled across the immediate area, and Paul squeezed my hand hard, when three dozen pairs of eyes were suddenly on us. For a long moment, just like at the bowling alley, everything was quiet, but it only lasted a second before loud, rowdy cheers erupted.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the bolt of pure happiness that shot through me like lightning. Before I saw my dad - before anything could go wrong - everything was perfect.

  But just as quickly as that realization came, it disappeared on the smoke billowing from the grill. A ripple of unrest surged through the crowd, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad stride into view. He nudged a few people none-too-gently, leaving low growls and sneers in his wake, and that dread I’d felt only minutes ago came creeping up my neck.

  The cheers dulled and the air filled with tension and apprehension. Paul tugged on my arm with a small, half-step forward. He released my hand, standing tall and visibly pissed, just as my father came up on us.

  I don’t know what I was expecting; Paul’s threat had been very real, but I didn’t think he’d actually do anything.

  I was so wrong.

  My father didn’t even have time to take a breath in preparation to speak before Paul’s fist was headed on a collision course for his face. His long, muscular arm extended, closing the distance easily, and the woosh of the air was cut off by a loud crack and subsequent shout. Shock mixed into the atmosphere, as my dad hit the ground on his ass, and my jaw slackened even as my hands clutched my chest.

  Paul didn’t make any further advances, and no one moved to help my father scramble up from the ground. The older of the two males raked his fingers through his hair, glaring, but my gaze didn’t linger. Puffing out his chest, my mate dared my father, with just his stance, to try something- to give him any reason.

  My beast bristled with a pride that nearly choked me when my dad just made a disgusted sound and stormed off. He disappeared behind the opposite side of the house, leaving quiet in his wake, before my mom appeared in front of us out of thin air. She held a tray of watermelon, and was grinning widely despite - or maybe because - of what had just happened, and her tone was much too cheery when she spoke.

  “Well, it’s about damn time!”

  Chapter Twelve: Paul

  I took a deep swig from my beer bottle, as I sat lounging in an uncomfortable, plastic chair, my gaze trained firmly on McKayla. She positively glowed, as if I hadn’t just punched her father in the face a scant ten minutes ago. Her silly grin crested her cheeks sharply, hands wrapped tightly around a flimsy paper plate piled with pasta salad.

  Just looking at her caused my eyes to ache, and I rolled my jaw absently as I watched her chat with her cousin.

  The relief I’d felt when no one really reacted to my busting her father’s face still clung to my ribs, and I took another gulp of my beer. Apparently, his own family didn’t really want to associate with him; they managed to sneak in apologies with their congratulations. Knowing how everyone felt - that this man had done someone dirty - relieved the tension in my shoulders and lower back.

  But the slight twinge of pain remained, and I frowned as I tore my gaze off my woman to peer into my beer bottle. I’d been working too much lately; McKayla had been complaining about it, but now that I was idle, I could feel what bad shape I was in. Everything was moving fast, and I just wanted it to be over. My brother was in jail; my house hunting was looking promising; my business was running slowly and smoothly. It was as if the universe had taken pity on me and didn’t want to swamp me with work during this critical time.

  “You look unhappy.” I lifted my head as McKayla’s mom’s voice tickled my ears, and I winced slightly when my headache flared to beat against my eye sockets. The middle-aged woman frowned under furrowed brows, but I wagged my beer bottle in dismissal and heaved a heavy sigh.

  “I’m not. I’ve just been working too much - it’s obviously taking its toll. This wasn’t exactly the first impression I wanted to make, either.” She smiled in understanding, and seating herself next to me, she gave a regal nod of her gold-capped head. It was very obvious to me whom McKayla took after, and I lifted the lip of my bottle to my mouth to drain the contents.

  “McKayla’s father is a sore spot for us all, boy.” Firm and in control, McKayla’s mother watched me intently through ocean-blue lenses, and I sat up a little straighter, seeing the grave lines that formed around her mouth. “I’m not going to give you the whole ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you’ speech, but … take your time with things. Remember that you’re both still so young. That was my mistake- having McKayla so soon - and I don’t want you two to go through that.”

  A slight smirk picked up the corners of my lips, and I let out a huff even as I nodded curtly. Everything I knew about McKayla’s mother flashed through my mind’s eye, but even without her warning, I would take things slow.

  “I understand. It feels like it’s been much longer than two weeks -“Air clogged my throat, cutting me off, and I leaned forward to cough harshly into my elbow. My chest shuddered, windpipe raw, and my headache threatened to pop my eyes from their sockets with each strangled hack. Soft, aged hands held my shoulder, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose before a figure blocked the warn sun.

  Forcing haggard, shallow breaths in and out of my lungs, I blinked hard to clear my blurred vision before McKayla’s long, smooth legs bent when she crouched down.

  “Hey – hey - are you okay, Paul?” Her soft, concerned voice sent a wash of goose bumps down my arms, hidden underneath my shirt. I shook my head wildly. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine, Babe - my beer went down wrong.” Rasping, I cleared my throat roughly while McKayla fixed a frown on her face, and her eyes narrowed into fine points.

  “You weren’t drinking. Maybe we should go somewhere quiet.” Calling me out on my bullshit easily, McKayla’s tone hardened before she stood up. “Let’s go. We can use the spare room.”

  “It’s not polite to - “Whatever snide, sexually tinged response I had planned, died suddenly as my stomach flipped violently. Pushing McKayla out of the way roughly, I hunched over my knees as bile, beer, and what little I’d eaten so far spewed from my mouth. A rash of exclamations and gasps floated to me on the breeze, but my brain spun in my skull and distorted everything my senses took in.

  Crumbling onto my hands and knees, I arched sharply as my body tried to eject everything from my stomach. The mixture splattered against the backs of my palms and across my front, but I couldn’t think of anything at all, let alone my ruined clothes.

  “Paul! Paul! Oh - shit… P -.” Fire shot down my spine, and a hoarse shout I didn
’t recognize as my own drowned out McKayla’s panicked calls. Arching sharply, I squeezed my eyelids shut and ground my teeth harshly, as I dropped to my elbows in a puddle of my own vomit. Tears fell onto my shirt sleeves, sizzling into mist from the heat that raged just under my skin. I panted harshly, and dry heaved as the smell of my spew coated my nostrils and clung to my tongue.

  “Fu -uck!” The blood curdling scream that was wrenched from my burning throat drowned out the sensation of my spine creaking and shifting. My ears rang; my fingers tingled as my nails dug into my palms, and I toppled over to writhe on the grass. Blood tainted the black behind my eyelids red, clogging my nose, and making breathing impossible.

  Darkness swallowed me, numbing every sense, as I drowned in my own blood, and I didn’t try to stop it. I knew somehow, through the pain, that I couldn’t do anything to help myself. That was the only thought that would stick to the empty board that had become my mind.

  Just let go.

  A droning buzz that slowly grew louder drew me out of my blackout, and seconds ticked by before I realized it was McKayla humming softly. Her off-key notes and flat tone were the most beautiful music I’d ever heard, and I grabbed onto it like a lifeline. I climbed into full consciousness and, struggling to fight the tendrils of sticky darkness that wanted to bring me back into the abyss, I followed her voice.

  Blood crusted my lids, and a fierce stinging assaulted my eyes while the smell of it seeped into the crevices of my brain. Looking around blearily, I blinked hard before softness touched my skin to gently clear my vision.

  Something was wrong - different. Staring up at McKayla as she hovered, like an angel, I could see the deeper highlights and lowlights of her hair. I could see the freckles dotting her nose that I had never seen before. I could see the tiny, green pigments in her irises that gave her that true, ocean blue eye color.

  “You’re so beautiful.” The words sounded in my mind, but all that came out of my mouth was a low, hoarse bellow. Above me, McKayla cracked a watery smile and gave me a huff of a laugh that tickled my face even while relief overtook hers. I jerked in surprise, once I finally managed to process that I had made that sound, and I looked down at myself, to find a thin coat of brown fur.