by Renee Rose
Sometimes I forget that. Research on climate change is about providing scientific analysis to the naysayers. Working on the ground level to create more consciousness about the situation. It’s not about me getting a tenured position at the university. It’s not about whose name goes first on a research paper, although it is about making sure that research gets published.
But also, it’s about balance. Taking time to breathe and enjoy the incredible nature we still have on this beautiful planet.
And why does that make me wish I had someone to enjoy it with? Someone human. And male. And sexy as hell in jeans and tattoos.
Caleb.
I sigh.
I sort of hate the way things ended.
Maybe I’ll drive back to his cabin to properly thank him before I leave the mountain.
Yes. That thought cheers me. Maybe I’ll bake him cookies as a thank you. Or blueberry muffins.
Bear gallops past me, tail wagging.
I pack a snowball, tossing it for him. He races and catches it, but of course, it falls apart in his mouth. I laugh, ignoring the errant wish that Caleb was here to have a snowball fight with.
I have the forest. I have Bear.
And I’m going to make Caleb blueberry muffins. And then I’ll have to figure out how to fill the new gap he made in my life.
But I can do it. I’m good at giving my brain a chew toy. A problem to work out while I take the rests of my samples.
I go inside and change my clothes. And then there’s nothing else to do but get back outside and finish gathering my tree ring samples.
Test Subject 849
Human female.
She’s back. I saw her pass in the truck owned by the bear. Saw him leaving alone.
That means she’s alone. Alone with the canine. I should’ve killed that dog when he caught my scent in the woods. I won’t make that mistake again.
Today I’ll pick her up. Maybe she’s been impregnated by the bear.
That would give me immense opportunities for research.
Shifter-human genetic mix. I should get the bear to perform mating studies like they did with those lions.
No, too dangerous.
The bear could arrest my research like the lion did.
Like the lion did when he let everyone out.
Let me out.
Let me out to suffer.
That lion should be stopped. What was his name?
Nash. Nash the lion.
He’s a lion like I was supposed to be a bear.
But something went wrong.
Terribly wrong.
And now I’m nothing. Not human. Not bear.
The research must continue. I must find the cure.
Caleb
If there were a pill for slipping back into hibernation—real bear hibernation, not just shifter low gear—I’d take it right now.
Forget everything that happened over the past fifty-six hours and sleep it off.
No, that’s not true.
My body feels great. The bear feels great. Alert. Alive. Ready to romp. It’s just the human side of me that wants to crawl back in a hole and cover my head.
And that’s because of the heaviness in the pit of my stomach over leaving Miranda at that cabin. The guilt over not wanting to leave her and the overriding protectiveness that makes me think she’s unsafe there by herself.
If I could sort out this tangled ball of emotion, I’d say it’s one part guilt over cheating on the memory of Jen, and one part missing the quirky scientist who just fearlessly surrendered the use of her body to me and then walked away. And two parts worry for her safety.
I’m back to where I started when I saw her drive up. Needing to make sure no other female goes missing from my woods. Especially not that one.
I will fucking tear this forest apart if anything happens to that one.
I would never recover.
The metallic taste of fear fills my mouth.
It’s not real. The threat isn’t real. You’re overreacting because of what happened to Jen and Gretchen.
But the threat is real.
Three human women gone. Their bodies still unrecovered.
A snarl fills my pickup and my vision sharpens like I’m about to shift.
Well, maybe a run in bear form would take the edge off.
I could sniff around and make sure there’s nothing evil lurking out there. Patrol the area where Miranda will be working. I could easily guard her in bear form. My fur is warm and my energy is abundant now that I’m fully wakened.
I park my pickup at my cabin and go inside to strip off my clothes. My skin prickles, flesh turns hot in anticipation of the shift. My bear’s raring to go.
Then go. Let’s go.
I can’t wait, either.
I need to get back to Miranda. Get close enough to smell her. Know she’s safe. I step out onto my porch in my bare feet and pull the door closed. In a flash I’m on all fours, loping through the trees. Over the crest of the mountain and around to the river.
I need to find Miranda.
I find the area she’d told me she was collecting samples in. Recognize her footprints and her scent, along with her dog’s.
And then I catch a scent that sends a cattle-prod-like shock through me.
Evil.
The scent of evil. An unnatural animal musk. Strange and somehow wrong.
Exactly the same scent I caught around Jen and Gretchen’s bodies.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I’ve been searching for this scent for three years, but now that I’ve found it, I’m paralyzed by fear. Because it’s near Miranda. I bound through the trees at top speed. Bears can run faster than a race horse for short distances, and I probably move at forty miles per hour.
I skid to a stop when I catch Miranda’s scent, but not the scent of evil.
Which one do I follow? Charging at Miranda as my full, nine-foot-bear self will scare the piss out of her. But at least I would know she’s safe. On the other hand, if I find the source of the evil, I can stop it forever. I won’t have to play guardian to every female who enters these woods.
I circle around and retrace my steps, seeking out the scent.
There.
There it is.
Down by the river.
Fuck. It’s disguising its scent in the water. Maybe that’s how it eluded me all this time.
Upriver, I hear the dog bark. My ears prick in that direction, listening to the pitch of the bark.
Shit—he’s frightened. I charge toward the sound, staying on the edge of the river bank and weaving in and out of the trees.
Miranda screams something.
Her dog yelps—a cry of pain.
“Bear! Bear, no! Oh my God!”
I see two things at once: the dark body of a flailing animal rushing down the river, and Miranda’s running form racing along the bank in my direction.
“Bear!” The screech of fear in her voice unnerves me.
The river’s running fast under the icy surface and the poor animal sweeps past me before I can decide who needs saving.
I roar and charge down the steep riverbank.
Miranda screams again.
I stop to look over my shoulder, only to realize she’s screaming because of me. She thinks I’m hunting her dog.
Fuck. More lost seconds. I race on the shore until I’ve overtaken the dog, then dive into the water, blocking the shepherd’s body from going further.
It’s not easy, but I get my footing on the slippery rocks and stand, scooping the flailing dog and tossing him to the shore in one motion.
The rescue comes too late, though, because Miranda’s cut down to the shore where she loses her footing. She plunges headlong into the water with a scream.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No.
This female is determined to die on my watch.
I bellow, my roar echoing off the banks of the river, shaking the whole damn forest.
Miranda comes up for air, scrambl
ing to catch a fallen log before she’s swept down the river.
I fight the currents to wade upstream to save her. The water’s to my waist, freezing my lower limbs.
“Miranda!” At least I try to yell Miranda. Of course, it comes out not as words, but as another terrible bear-roar.
Her scream splits the air a second time as she clings to the log, lips blue, eyes wide with terror at my approach.
Miranda
Bear attack. Bear attack! This bear is fuck-nuts crazy and he’s coming for me.
I think of all the things you’re supposed to do if you run into a bear. None of them are applicable in this situation. No one said what to do if you’re in the middle of a freezing river in the winter and a crazy non-hibernating bear thinks you’re a giant salmon.
I’m hyperventilating as it reaches me. I try to huddle down and play dead, but my entire body is shaking with cold and I can’t protect my head or neck because I have to hang onto the log or I’ll be swept downstream. My hands barely hold on. I lose my grip right as it arrives.
Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe I’ll sweep past the bear. Of course that probably means I’ll die from the freezing water.
The bear stoops down and catches me in a smooth arc. Like snatching his dinner from the currents. His claws don’t tear me, though. Nor does he bare his teeth or roar. I swear to God, he lifts me into a cradle carry and strides right out of the river. It’s such a human hold, it unnerves me completely.
My heart pounds a mile a minute and I’m too stunned at first to do anything. I don’t know whether to be scared or to celebrate. I’ve been saved from the water by a bear.
But saved for what?
Was it truly a rescue or am I his prey? I regain my wits and try to squirm out of the bear’s arms, but it tightens the grip, snorts and turns amber eyes on me.
I freeze. Its black nose is centimeters from mine. Breath is hot against my cheek.
I’m not sure I’m breathing. I will myself to become invisible.
But then I forget my fears for my own safety. “Bear!” I catch sight of my dog running toward us, tail tucked, body slinking from the wet and cold. “Oh my baby puppy. Are you okay? Thank God, you’re okay.”
And then it hits me like a bat over the head. The bear—the real bear, not my dog—saved Bear. He saved Bear and then he saved me.
This bear isn’t crazy. It’s highly intelligent. And it’s lumbering fairly fast on two legs.
I go still, awed by what’s taking place. This incredible giant black bear chose to rescue a human and a dog from their deaths. I feel like I’m witnessing one of those rare wildlife scenes—like when elephants are caught on video picking up trash with their trunks.
The bear walks clumsily on, not putting me down. My dog follows, keeping a wide distance and not challenging the bear.
Prickles of excitement fill me. Fear too, but I’m too fascinated by this bear. By this miracle. I truly feel like it’s a sign. About my life, my future. I’m a scientist, but it feels like Mother Nature is blessing me right now because I renewed my commitment to save the Earth.
And then things get even weirder.
Because I realize the bear is lumbering straight for my research cabin.
What. The Actual. Fuck?
It dumps me on my feet right in front of the door and crowds me against the door, his breath hot on my neck. Shivers run up and down my back.
“Don’t freak out.”
I scream. Nearly pee my pants.
I whirl to find Caleb right behind me, his hand on the doorknob. And he’s buck… Naked.
He pushes the door open and hustles me in. Bear rushes in behind me. “Don’t freak out, Miranda.”
“Freaking,” I croak. “Totally freaking.”
Where did the bear go? Am I hallucinating? Are visions an effect of hypothermia?
“You gotta stop trying to die on my watch,” he mutters.
“Wh-wh-where’s the bear? Did you see a bear?”
“Yeah. I’m the bear. I’m a shifter. Okay? Let’s get you in the shower. Tell me they have warm water in this place.” He hustles me toward the bathroom. Did I mention he’s buck naked? And his cock is at full mast.
“Um. They do. Wh-what’s a shifter?”
He’s all business, yanking the shower curtain open and turning the water all the way to hot. I work to get out of my soaked boots and socks.
“Like a werewolf. Only a bear. Dog, come here.”
“His name is Bear—” I break off when I realize how ridiculous that must seem to Caleb. Who apparently is a bear. I start giggling.
The salmon and trout. The blueberries. The honey. Hibernating for winter.
Caleb is a bear!
No, this can’t be. I’m totally hallucinating.
My dog obeys him and now I understand why. Yeah, I guess a bear outranks a dog in the natural order. I giggle some more. I’m laughing so hard I can’t get my pants off. Oh, that may also be because my hands are shaking and my fingers are still numb. And I’m delirious.
The hypothermia must’ve really set in, because I thought Caleb was a bear. A giant black bear that picked me up out of the icy Pecos River.
Caleb scoots Bear under the spray of water then turns to help me get my wet clothes off.
“I thought you were a bear,” I giggle. “When you rescued me.”
Caleb frowns. “You’re losing your shit, Doctor. I told you not to flip out.”
I stop laughing and blink at him. “Is this really happening? You’re a bear?”
He purses his lips, but nods.
“So when the moon is full…” I raise my brows at him.
“No, that full moon thing is bullshit. We shift at will. And we don’t hunt humans when we’re in our animal form. Or ever.”
I gape in shock but my hands reach out to touch his sculpted chest. Like I’m verifying he still feels like a man. I brush my fingertips over the taut muscles, the tattoos. He catches the back of my head in his huge palm.
“A bear?” I whisper, still not believing, even though I saw it with my own eyes.
His expression is still tight, gaze more of a glower. “Are you scared?”
I shake my head, my wet hair throwing out freezing droplets of water. “Entranced,” I murmur. A more violent shiver overtakes my body, so he releases me and hustles me under the shower water. I gasp at the burn of the warm water on my frozen skin.
“Out, dog.” He snaps his fingers and Bear slinks out, head bowed low in submission. Caleb rubs Bear with a towel.
“Shouldn’t you come in, too?”
He doesn’t answer at first. He’s still busy rubbing Bear down. I watch through the gap in the shower curtain. When he gives Bear extra loving, rubbing the sides of his face and ears, my heart melts.
“If I come in there, you’re gonna get fucked hard,” he rumbles after a moment.
“Um, yeah, I kinda noticed your, um…”
He rips the shower curtain open and steps in. Yep, his cock is still sky high. Thick, veined and beautiful.
I don’t think, I just drop to my knees and take hold of it.
Caleb sucks in a heavy breath and leans his hand against the tile. “You like giving head?” His voice is so thick I have to work to decipher the words.
I put my lips around the tip of his cock and swirl my tongue underneath. “Not usually,” I say when I come off. “But it’s not every day a man-bear saves my dog and pulls me from an icy river before I die a horrible cold death.” I wrap my lips again and take him deeper this time.
It’s true, I’ve never liked giving head. I always found it kinda gross, but right now it’s hot as hell and I’m so ready to give to this man who’s done so much for me. I take him deeper and deeper, playing with how far I can go before he hits the back of my throat.
God, I guess with my past partners and relationships, I was so busy putting up walls and defenses to shield from getting hurt, I never was able to give. With Caleb, there’s no expectations. On either side. It
’s like we can just be with each other. Open up and receive and give without worrying about what comes next.
And holy shit, he’s a bear! I still can’t process. A million questions flit at the edges of my brain, but right now all that matters is giving him pleasure. Because I’m horny as hell knowing I’m getting him off.
I go as slow as I can, try to relax my gag reflex to take him past the back of my throat. He lets out a long, long groan that echoes off the shower walls.
I cup his balls and massage them with one hand, gripping the base of his cock with the other. My jaw already aches from opening so wide, but I’m not going to stop until Caleb gets off. I need to show my appreciation fully, and this is one way I know how.
All cold vanishes from my body. Heat both infuses my skin through the warm water and pushes out from my molten core.
“Beautiful,” Caleb mutters. “Fucking beautiful.” He grips the back of my head and urges me faster.
My control issues rear up for a moment—like I need to fight for my sovereignty, but then I look up and see the feral need on his face. Like he’s in lust-pain. Like he’ll die if I don’t suck harder. Go faster.
So I do. My hips buck, pussy clenches around nothing. I give it everything I have and more. Suck, bob, close my eyes and submit to the moment. It’s ecstasy. Ecstasy in giving. Not even receiving.
I love it. I love every second. And when Caleb roars—a master of the forest roar that shakes the entire cabin—I shudder with the sheer pleasure of getting him off.
He comes in my mouth—hot streams of salty essence. I wish I could say I was cool enough to swallow, but it shocks me, and I come off, gagging a bit.
Caleb chuckles. “Spit, baby.”
I spit onto the shower floor and water washes it away. I laugh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry. That was very uncool.”
He pulls me up to stand and stamps his mouth over mine. “Are you kidding?” he breathes when he breaks the kiss. “That was the definition of cool.” He kisses me again.
I melt.
Oh God. This is bad. I was totally falling in love with this man before I found out he was a bear.
And now my fascination with him just went through the roof.