Bearly Holding On

by Danielle Foxton

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Two relatively uneventful weeks passed by. Though Awen had taken photographs of the marks on the woman’s throat, not much more had developed in the case. It was a waiting game—the wheels of justice never did spin quickly.

  Awen had been spending more and more time with her family. She would go for dinner most nights during the week at her parents’ house, and on the weekends she would hike out to Mati’s cabin. They spent most of their time outside, enjoying the balmy springtime weather of the Pacific Northwest, hiking in the woods and swimming in the rivers. Mati would occasionally let her ride on his back in his bear form, and they would lumber through the forest while she told him about all the things that had happened since he first began to shy away from society. He couldn’t talk back of course, but he would interject her ramblings with a “hrmf” or a growl, depending on what he thought of the newest in technology and politics.

  Things remained relatively peaceful until Awen’s mother invited the two of them over for a family dinner. This set Mati, and his inner beast, invariably on edge.

  “Mati!” Awen called into the bathroom. “You look fine! You’ve been primping for hours!”

  Mati stuck his head out of the doorway and narrowed his eyes at her. “I do not...primp.”

  Awen put a hand on her hip. “Then what do you call buying the most expensive body wash in the store and dousing yourself in it before scrubbing your skin raw?”

  He considered that for a moment. “Being meticulous,” he decided finally. He popped out of her view again. He had put on his best shirt, a black button up, and had chosen the only pair of pants he owned that didn’t have holes. Staring at himself in the mirror, he decided he looked presentable.

  When they arrived at the house he and her father shared a solemn handshake before he was welcomed in.

  “It smells great,” Mati said politely as Awen’s mother scurried out from the kitchen to greet him.

  “We weren’t sure if you wanted the meat raw or not,” Keme confessed. “You know—you being a were-bear and all.”

  “Dad!” Awen scolded. “He prefers shifter.”

  Mati seemed unfazed. Instead, he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, handing it to Awen’s mother. She squealed.

  Awen had told her parents about Mati’s past almost immediately. She hadn’t had a choice—her father had known something was off the night he saw them coming from the woods after the ‘bear attack.’ He had demanded answers the moment he was alone with her again.

  “I suppose you could have done worse,” Keme teased, poking his daughter in the ribs. “You could’ve bagged yourself a werewolf. There’s a basket of trouble waiting to happen. They get super moody once a month—much like your mother.”

  Aiyana smacked him playfully. “We’re delighted to have you here, Mati.” She smiled. “Please, come in and sit down. I’m just going to get a vase for these beautiful flowers.”

  Dinner started off smoothly. Awen told her parents about her job, Keme discussed tribe affairs, and Aiyana did everything she could to include Mati in their conversation.

  “So, Mati,” she said, piling more roast onto his plate, “what’s it like?”

  Awen glared at her mother. “Mom! I’m sure he doesn—”

  “It’s fine,” Mati interrupted, lightly squeezing Awen’s hand. “It’s not every day a person gets to meet a three-hundred-year-old man who turns into a bear.”

  “You’re how old?” Keme chorused. He already knew the answer to that. After all, Awen had told him everything she knew about Mati—the tragedy of his past, the loneliness of his present. She had babbled like a brook, all with the hope that her father would love Mati just like she did. Keme had stared at her, silent, the whole time. And when the story was done he had made a singular nod of his approval. That didn’t stop him from being a grumpy old man.

  Aiyana smacked him again, ushering Mati on.

  Mati glanced warily at Awen’s father but continued. “It’s not as bad as the stories make it sound. I get to do good things and, with the spirit of the bear inside of me, I feel much more connected to nature.”

  “Do you ever wish the man actually responsible had been punished instead?” Aiyana asked. “What was his name again?”

  Mati grimaced. “Hemene. His name was Hemene,” he replied, “and I used to, but it’s been so long now...who knows what the outcome of that might have been?”

  “Hemene…” Aiyana seemed to drift off. “Was that not Enyeto’s father’s name?”

  “It was,” Keme answered. “I know that his family has been in control of the Cayuse for many generations. I would imagine he was named in honor of his ancestor.”

  Aiyana took a bite of her bread. “Makes you wonder though,” she chewed. “We have a living legend among us—that means our people’s magic is real. I’m a direct descendent of the woman that placed that curse on you, which is also interesting...but who’s to say the Cayuse didn’t use similar magic?”

  Awen started. “Is that true mom?” she asked, suddenly desperate. “Could you lift his curse?”

  Aiyana shrugged. “I’m afraid not. I looked into it when you first told us about him. The only record of his curse I could find just said that they only way to break it is for him to repay his debt.”

  Awen sighed. “I feel like he’s done that already, though,” she muttered, turning to Mati. “You’ve already done so much for this village. When will it be enough?”

  Mati grasped Awen’s hand. “I made peace with the possibility that it may never be enough a long time ago,” he admitted. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  “Aiyana, tell the two of them who placed the curse,” Keme said, interrupting their tender moment.

  Awen spun her gaze to her mother.

  “You didn’t know?” Aiyana directed at Mati.

  He shook his head.

  Aiyana looked shocked. “It was Awenasa’s sister.”

  At first Awen failed to understand how this was relevant. Then it dawned on her. “That means that…”

  “You’re a descendent of Awenasa,” her father finished for her. “Which is probably why you two share such a profound bond.”

  Awen sat back in her chair, dumbfounded. She was about to speak when a pounding on the door snapped them all to attention. Keme rushed to answer it.

  “Keme!” a tall young man cried when he opened it. “There are wolves in the village—they’re attacking people!”

  “Wolves?” Keme asked quizzically. “In town?”

  The young man’s terrified face was the only answer Keme needed. He stalked back inside and grabbed his rifle, ensuring it was fully loaded.

  Mati sprung into action. “I don’t understand,” he muttered to Awen as he pulled on his shoes. “The forest calls to me when your village is under attack. I feel nothing!”

  “Well then cover me in branches and call me the forest,” Keme said grimly as he cocked his gun. “Because I’m hollerin’.”

  “I’m coming!” Awen called after the men as they stepped out the door.

  Keme spun around to face her. “Oh good, you brought your gun,” he said saucily.

  Awen looked away shyly. “Uh...well…”

  “Then you’re staying!” he ordered. “Else all you’ll be doing is bringing nails to a claw fight. Look after your mother.” And with that the two men were gone.

  As soon as Mati reached the yard he let the bear take hold of him. The beast was excited to have some action, and he hated wolves in particular.

  As Mati changed, Keme raced towards the sounds of screaming and snarls. A large wolf and four smaller ones had a boy pinned against an old storage shed, nipping at his heels. It was as if they were taunting him.

  “Keep the small ones busy!” Mati bellowed, his skin tearing at the seams. “I want the ringleader.”

  “You got it.” Keme was actively trying to ignore the fact that his companion was literally tearing at the seams. Instead, he aimed, shooting off a
couple of shots. None of them seemed to hit home but they scared the wolves enough that the small ones bolted.

  Just as the larger wolf turned, snarling through ragged fangs, Mati’s bear form rushed forward. He roared loudly.

  The two squared off, circling each other and gnashing their teeth. The wolf was large, much larger than any wolf Mati had ever seen in the forest. He charged, heaving his bulk in order to swing his paw.

  The wolf dodged the attack easily. He leapt into the air and landed on Mati’s back, tearing at the scruff behind his neck. Mati stood, swinging wildly, until one of his paws caught purchase on the side of the wolf’s skull. He was thrown off of Mati, skidding against the gravel some distance. Several other wolves gathered around in front of him, protecting the large wolf while he righted himself.

  A bullet whizzed past Mati’s head as the village people began firing into the pack of wolves.

  “Don't shoot the bear!” Keme screamed.

  Two wolves began to approach the old man. He fired at them as they circled but they were too fast. Mati charged at them, a wild cry emanating from the bear’s throat. Before Mati could reach him, one of Keme’s shots managed to hit one of his attackers. The wolf let out an anguished wail and turned to the woods to flee. The others, too, were disappearing into the darkness. In one moment they were gone; it was like they were never there.

  Mati disappeared behind the shed to shift.

  “Patamon, what happened here?” Keme asked, still bewildered by the attack.

  The other man, who had been standing nearby shooting at the wolves, looked equally confused. “I sent Ouray out to the shed to grab a wrench. All of the sudden he was surrounded. I don’t know where they came from!” He looked around. “Where did that bear go? Maybe they were following it.”

  “No, the bear showed up after they came,” Keme answered.

  Mati listened from behind the shed, conscious of his nakedness. It would be even harder to explain away this time.

  “Why would a bear choose to fight a pack of wolves?” another man asked. “It was like he was trying to protect us.”

  “I don’t know,” Keme lied, “but I am grateful to him.”

  The men dispersed, muttering, and when the coast was clear Mati emerged. Keme nodded to him solemnly.

  Mati could feel blood trickling down his neck where the wolf had mauled him, but the prickling sensation in the area informed him that he was already healing; it was one of the perks of being an immortal cursed bear.

  “Is everyone alright?” he asked Keme quietly.

  “They’re just a bit shaken up, I think,” Keme replied. “Let’s go make sure our women are safe.”

  They jogged back to the house, Mati swiping a pair of pants from a clothesline along the way.

  Once there Awen bolted out of the house, enveloping her father in a tight hug. Aiyana wasn’t far behind, embracing her husband once Awen had released him.

  Awen moved over to Mati, pressing her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his torso. “I heard you crying out,” she murmured into his skin. “I was so worried.” Her fingers grazed fresh blood. “You’re hurt!” she stated.

  “I’m fine now,” he reassured, wrapping her small frame in his arms. “I heal very quickly.” He kissed the top of her head and tightened his embrace.

  “Patamon’s boy was attacked by the shed,” Keme explained as they walked inside. “As soon as I hit one of the wolves they all ran off. A big one got Mati on the scruff pretty good but other than that nobody was hurt.”

  “It’s so strange that the wolves would attack Ouray,” Awen mused, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. They all sat down at the kitchen table. “There are plenty of chickens and livestock around that would have made easier prey.”

  Her father nodded. “And generally wolves stay away from humans. At least until the snow comes and game is scarce.”

  Awen popped the caps off of the beers and handed them out to Mati and her father. Aiyana declined, saying she had already had too much wine at dinner.

  Keme took a swig from his bottle. “At least everyone is okay. Just in case, we should stay in tonight.”

  Awen grabbed Mati’s hand under the table. He clearly did not want to stay, though he wouldn’t say anything. “I’ll be fine,” she commented. “Mati will take me home, and I live in the city so I doubt I’ll be at risk of attack there.”

  Aiyana screwed up her mouth but didn’t argue. “We’ll walk you out.”

  Awen hugged her parents on the porch and her and Mati descended onto the driveway. Keme stood on the porch with his rifle, waiting until they had pulled away.

  Awen drove down the bumpy reservation drive until they reached the main road, keeping her eyes steadfastly directed in front of her. Once they were about halfway down the road she slowed down, pulling over to the side and stopping. She turned off the engine.

  Just as Mati gave her a questioning look, she unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over the console, coming to rest on his lap. She straddled him and bent her face to his, leaving a trail of light kisses from his cheekbones to his jaw.

  Mati rested his hands on her legs, smiling. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking for bite marks,” she said playfully. “I'm just so glad you're alright.”

  Mati inhaled sharply as her teeth lightly grazed his earlobe. “I see…”

  Awen giggled and kissed him deeply. She sucked on the tip of his tongue and a low growl settled in Mati’s chest. He pulled her hips harder into his, enjoying the pressure created by her grinding on his lap. Her hands began to wander downwards, lightly brushing the button of his jeans.

  Mati stopped her. “Not like this.”

  “I trust you, Mati,” she said softly, kissing him again.

  He nearly let her continue unbuttoning his pants. His control slipped ever so slightly when she bit his bottom lip and pressed her chest flat against his—but in the end Mati had to do what was right.

  He pinned her arms to her sides and gave her a stern look. “Awen,” he chided. “I don’t know what would happen. I’ll find the end of this curse and, when I do, I will love you for a lifetime and more.”

  With that, Mati planted a brief but tender kiss on Awen’s lips.

  The mention of the “L” word, however indirect, erased all her frustration, and she assented to move back over to her seat. She reached forward to turn the key but froze when she heard a long, terrifying howl. She flicked on the headlights, a shiver running down her spine when the light came to rest on the large figure of a wolf about twenty feet away.

  “Oh no,” Awen whispered. She furiously turned the key. The engine turned over but wouldn’t start. She looked over at Mati.

  He was staring straight forward, leveling his gaze at the wolf with all the ferocity he was able to exhibit. His eyes glowed a dull yellow, and his lips curled back into a snarl. “That’s the bastard that bit me.” He reached for the door handle. “I’ll take care of him!”

  “No!” Awen cried, reaching over to grab his arm. “Look! There are at least five of them.”

  Mati had been so focused on the wolf in their headlights that he hadn’t noticed the others circling the vehicle. He looked toward the large wolf again, who snapped his maw challengingly.

  “I’ll heal,” Mati said gruffly. “This needs to be taken care of.”

  “Mati!” she chided again. “I won’t heal, and if one of them jumps in when you open the door I’m toast.”

  He knew she was right. “Get the car started.”

  Awen wrenched the key forward again and again. Still, the car wouldn’t start. The wolves began to make their approach.

  The large wolf jumped onto the hood of the Jeep, scratching at the windshield. His hot breath fogged the outside of the glass. Awen turned the key again, her hope beginning to fizzle out.

  The wolf was jumping on the windshield by then, pounding his massive paws against it and rocking the whole car. Awen gave up on the key; she leaned over Mati to
pull her gun from the glove compartment. She cocked it just as the first cracks began to appear on the glass.

  Awen turned to Mati. “What are we going to do?”

  His expression was steel. “Keep trying.”

  Awen could tell that it was taking everything in him not to leave the car and shift, but the wolves were too close. If he opened the door they would both be vulnerable.

  She went to turn the key again when she heard a crack; the large wolf had managed to crack through the windshield.

  Awen screamed as Mati put an arm out to protect her from the paw that had come through the broken window. He wrenched the wolf’s leg down against the jagged glass and she heard a howl of pain. The leg retreated but the wolf began to pounce again. The hole began to get larger.

  Awen still turned the key; it was the only thing she knew how to do anymore. She clutched the gun in one hand and the key in the other, relentlessly turning and turning again. The engine sounded so close to starting—they were a breath away from getting out of there.

  Suddenly the wolf’s face plunged through the windshield, snapping his jaw. Awen leaned back as far as she could, feeling its acrid breath on her face as it wormed further and further inside the car.

  Mati punched the wolf across the side of the face and it turned to him. He went to hit it again but it sunk its teeth into his arm, shaking its head viciously as it tore into the skin. Mati let out an anguished cry but managed to pull his arm free and, at the same time, bury a piece of jagged glass in the wolf’s eye.

  It yipped in pain and backed out of the car, leaping down from the hood. There was a single howl and suddenly the wolves were gone. The forest was quiet again.

  Awen turned to Mati. “Are you okay?” she asked desperately.

  He held up his hand for her to inspect. She watched as the torn skin stitched together, leaving new pink skin that slowly faded to his natural skin tone. “I’m fine,” he said gruffly. “What about you, are you hurt?”

  “Nothing that a stiff drink won’t fix.” She smiled reassuringly. “Do you think they’re gone?”