by Bliss Devlin
She sees the Beast Warriors herd her stumbling, tottering Granda towards the waiting vehicles. They roar to life, their headlights coming to sudden life, and Shannon still feels the sound of the motors vibrating through her bones and shivering through her skull.
They're coming to Elysia! WSS has Granda, and the wolf shifters are coming for me!
"Shannon." Someone was shaking her. "Shannon, wake up, love. You're having a nightmare."
The moonlit forest dissipated around her, and with it, Granda and the Beast Warriors.
But her terror remained. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt short of breath.
She opened her eyes to see Rafe looking down at her with a concerned expression. The room was still dark, and moonlight still slanted through the gaps in his curtains, so she had not been asleep for very long.
"Hey," he said. "Are you all right?"
His callused fingers rested lightly against the side of her neck, and she knew he could feel her pulse pounding through her veins.
She shook her head. "They're coming! The wolf shifters! They're coming—and they've got Granda! They drugged him with something and made him tell them where I was. It was horrible!"
"It was just a nightmare—" Rafe began in a soothing tone.
She felt his hand on her hair, stroking, and drank in the comfort that he offered.
She wasn't alone. Not anymore. She was a shifter's mate. That part still felt unreal, like a wonderful dream. But Rafe was here, and his touch and scent were very real.
Shannon shook her head. "Not just a nightmare, love. It was a prophetic dream…a vision. Trust me, I know the difference."
Rafe drew in a sharp breath. "Are you sure?"'
She nodded.
"Shit." To his credit, Rafe did not question her further. "Any idea when?"
"Soon. It—it was the plane crash site. I saw a full moon…and Erik Redclaw was there with Granda, forcing him to tell where I'd gone. He mentioned Elysia!"
"Erik Redclaw," Rafe repeated grimly. "Commanding officer of Wolf Team. Damn it." He paused. "Did you say you saw a full moon?"
Shannon nodded.
"So that means we might have a couple of weeks. It's a waxing half-moon right now," he said. "So none of the things you saw have happened yet."
"Does that mean that WSS haven't captured Granda yet?" Shannon asked, her heart pounding. "Can we warn him?"
Rafe shook his head, looking regretful. "We can't risk it. And they've probably already captured him—likely in the same raid that swept you up."
Shannon swallowed down fear that tasted as bitter as gall. Somehow, she knew Rafe was right. It was already too late.
"What else do you remember about your dream?" asked Rafe.
"Redclaw was worried about Colonel Perry hearing that I had escaped, so he was urging haste."
Rafe sighed and sat up. "Okay, so if it happens, it's going to happen soon. I'll call Hal right now and give him a heads-up. I'll ask him to station lookouts along the highway and on the Forest Service road where I found you."
"Rafe, I'm sorry," Shannon said, reaching for his hand. "I never meant to bring trouble here."
"If it comes, we'll have only Colonel Perry and Erik Redclaw to blame," he assured her.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, then bent to kiss her.
"Go back to sleep, if you can. I'll return as soon as I've made that call to Hal."
"Shannon Magnusson, if I might have a word?" asked Hal from the clinic's doorway, using her new last name.
In need of a new last name for her official identity documents, Rafe had urged her to use his surname, since she was now his mate.
She hadn't required much convincing. It was a good name, even if it was Scandinavian rather than Irish, she thought. It made her feel like part of the shifter community in Elysia.
It was late morning on the day after her dream. Shannon had been expecting Hal Sigurdsson to contact her. But she had not expected him to appear in person at her clinic.
"Of course," she said with a polite nod. "Please enter, Mr. Sigurdsson."
Hal entered, stooping a little to avoid hitting his head on the lintel. "No patients this morning?"
She shook her head. "Not so far, though I anticipate at least a couple of embedded fishhooks and possibly a couple of bad sunburns needing a salve before the day is out. May I offer you some tea?"
"You may," he said gravely. "If you promise to stop addressing me as Mr. Sigurdsson and call me Hal, like everyone else does."
Apparently not a man to make small talk, he sat silently, watching her while she filled her electric kettle and pulled two mugs and a box of assorted teas from a cupboard.
Perhaps I should offer him a soothing blend of chamomile and mint, she thought. In case he's angry with me. And wanted to laugh at herself. As if a mere herbal infusion would calm a bear shifter in a rage!
Nevertheless, it couldn't hurt, could it?
Hal sniffed at the steaming mug that she offered him a short time later, and she saw the faintest suggestion of a smile lighten the grim set of his mouth.
"How may I serve you, Mr.—er, Hal?" she asked, politely, as she pulled a chair around to face him.
She took a sip from her own mug.
"Rafe passed along your warning," he said, studying her intently with pale blue eyes that were the color of glacier ice. "How certain are you that this is a true foreseeing and not just a nightmare?"
Shannon shrugged. "It felt like a prophetic dream, though, as is the nature of dreams, some of the details may have been symbolic rather than literal." She remembered the sight of her grandfather as a prisoner and shivered. "But it felt very real…and very possible. I believe that Erik Redclaw intends to continue hunting me and that he will soon make his way to Elysia."
Hal sighed heavily. "I just knew you'd be trouble. And Erik isn't the kind of man to relent in his pursuit."
"I'm very sorry, Mr.—ah, Hal." Shannon bowed her head. "I didn't mean to cause trouble for your people—I just wanted to escape Colonel Perry's clutches! If I could have gone anywhere else…"
Her free hand clenched the hem of her smock, crumpling it. Hal Sigurdsson would probably make her leave Elysia now. And she didn't want to uproot Rafe from his home, not so soon after their mating!
"Now, now, never mind me, Shannon," Hal said, his tone softening. "I’m a grumpy old bear, and I like to growl a bit. To tell you the truth, it's good that you came to us. We needed a healer who knew about Beast Warriors."
"But if Erik and his wolf shifters come here—" she began.
Hal shook his head. "The fact that you had this dream means that we bear shifters have received a timely warning. We can prepare for the fight instead of being taken by surprise." He sighed. "We've always known that our refuge couldn't remain a secret and off the maps forever, especially now with all of the Internet map services and every car equipped with a GPS unit."
He paused while Shannon breathed silent relief. He didn't blame her! She could scarcely believe it, but she was grateful.
"But your warning reminded me of something I've been meaning to ask you," Hal said. "You know that Beast Warriors were granted an immortal lifespan but that we are not immune to death by injury?"
Shannon nodded, remembering Brett's terrible injury. He probably would have bled to death if Rafe and Drake hadn't been at hand to administer first aid.
"Of the original hundred bear shifters who deserted WSS with me," Hal continued, "a number are now dead thanks to accidents and sheer bad luck. Some of them have children and grandchildren who inherited their shifter abilities, but not their lifespans."
"Like Drake Snorrison?" Shannon asked.
Hal nodded. "I see that Rafe has told you some of this, at least. So this new generation, while able to shift into bear-shape, ages and dies at the same rate as mortals." He paused and looked around. His voice was nearly a whisper when he continued, "This is both a curse
and a blessing—at least they won't outlive their mates and children."
Shannon wondered if Hal, too, had married a mortal woman and lost her to old age. Ah, to have to endure such pain and loss!
"Which brings me to the real purpose of my visit. Liam trained you, did he not?"
"Healing magic and herbal lore, for the most part," she replied cautiously.
"So he never shared any of his research with you? His genetic studies for seeing how shifters might have more shifter children? Right now, it's about one in four when a shifter mates with an ordinary human—those aren't good odds for our long-term survival, especially here, where so few women are shifters. Wherever we originally came from…only WSS knows, and they're not telling."
Shannon shook her head. "I didn't even know that Granda had been a geneticist," she said honestly. "The way he talked about his past, I always thought he'd just been pressed into service as a medic or trauma specialist and that what had interested WSS were the extra abilities bestowed by our family's bloodline."
"No, WSS recruited him as a researcher. They sent him along on some of our missions to observe us and to draw samples at various stages of shape-changing. But being the man he is, he jumped in to serve as a medic when needed," Hal said, looking defeated. "Damn it."
He rose, clearly preparing to leave.
Shannon wanted to do something for him. She owed him much, and to send him away empty-handed felt wrong.
"My l—Hal, wait," she said. "There's one other thing…Rafe told me something last night that made me think about something that Granda was working on, something he kept secret." She took a deep breath. "I don't know anything about Granda's other work, but I do know that he taught me a way to make mortals immortal."
Hal froze. "Holy shit, no wonder Perry and WSS were willing to launch a large-scale operation to capture you. Does Rafe know?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone," Shannon said, sick with apprehension. "And I'm the only one who can do it—it requires a special kind of healing talent. Granda figured out how to do it, but he wasn't powerful enough."
"So why are you telling me?" Hal asked gently.
Shannon looked him straight in the eye. "Because I think I just brought a lot of trouble to your town. So I thought you deserved to know why WSS was really after me."
"And with this, our children…our grandchildren…we'll no longer have to outlive them?" he asked.
She saw incredulity warring with hope in his expression, and nodded gravely.
"But it's dangerous and a process that needs to be used with great deliberation and discretion," she warned. "Not everyone can survive the transformation process, and it takes a great toll on me, as well. Plus, anyone becoming immortal would have to face outliving all their contemporaries, their children, and their grandchildren. It's a heavy burden."
Hal sighed gustily. "You don't have to tell me that."
He put aside his half-drunk cup of tea and rose to his feet.
"Shannon, thank you. You have given me some truly valuable information." He gave her a half-bow. "I would have sheltered you from WSS, regardless, because of the debt I owe Liam Donlon," he continued gravely. "But this gift you offer us…I'll have to think on it. Don't tell anyone else in the meanwhile."
"I want to tell Rafe, but no one else," Shannon replied.
She received a grave nod in reply before Hal left her clinic.
After the door had swung shut behind him, Shannon washed the mugs and prepared for Rafe's lunch delivery. He had promised her spaghetti with venison meatballs today.
The images from her dream rose to haunt her as she worked. Granda, a prisoner of WSS, and all because of me. All because I healed that boy, and the news services found out.
But she knew that if she were faced again with the need to save a life and risk exposure, she would do it.
And she wondered what would happen if Redclaw and his wolf shifters really did show up in Elysia.
Would she be able to live with herself if Rafe or any other of the bear shifters were hurt or killed defending her?
Chapter 10 – Surrounded
In response to Shannon's warning, Hal put his bear shifters on high alert for a possible invasion.
Shannon tried to keep herself busy as the summer days marched relentlessly toward the next full moon. Her nights were filled with uneasy dreams, and nightmares haunted her, even within Rafe's protective embrace.
Erik Redclaw and his wolf shifters were coming for her, and people that she knew and cared about might be injured or even killed trying to protect her.
When the first night of the full moon finally came, Hal ordered Shannon to spend the night within the thick stone walls of Elysia's jail.
Rafe, Brett, and Drake stayed with her as bodyguards, while most of the other Beast Warriors spread out along the town's perimeter.
It was a very long, very tense night, and no one at the jailhouse slept.
As dawn turned the sky to pewter and the stars vanished, Hal returned, looking weary.
Shannon scanned him anxiously but saw no sign of combat or injury.
"Nothing," Hal confirmed tersely. "Are you sure that you dreamed true, Shannon?"
"It felt so real," she whispered, simultaneously embarrassed and relieved that there hadn't been an invasion after all. "I'm sor—" she began.
Hal cut her off with a curt gesture. "I'm not. If nothing else, this was a good drill for our less experienced shifters."
Rafe put a protective arm around her. "You said that your Granda sensed your presence. Maybe he warned them about proceeding with their plan."
"He would never help them, not like that," she whispered. She turned to bury her face in his shoulder.
But the cold lump of dread in her stomach refused to dissolve.
Nothing happened. And maybe nothing will, she tried to reassure herself.
Her sense of impending doom continued to shadow her through the week that followed. But she seemed to be the only one who worried.
All around her, the state of high alert in Elysia quickly subsided.
Hal, ever cautious, continued to send regular patrols of his Beast Warriors around the town and up along the Forest Service roads leading through the wilderness areas, but otherwise, life swiftly returned to normal.
It was high summer, and all of Elysia's residents were busy with the tourists and the business they brought.
Larry's Bakery remained closed, much to Rafe's regret each time he drove Shannon to town to go shopping.
And her big bear wasn't the only one who missed the bakery's treats.
She overheard complaints from the town's other residents about the lack of a decent place to get coffee and pastries, not to mention many concerned comments about how Larry was missing out on tourist season, when his business usually made the profit that allowed him to operate the rest of the year after the cold set in and the town's population shrank to include only its permanent residents.
Rafe, Brett, and Drake spent the long summer days out on their property, moving cattle from one area to another to take advantage of the lush grass, mending fences, cutting brush, and performing the hundred other daily chores required of ranchers.
In addition, Rafe hosted a steady stream of guests at his house, cooking for them and arranging for hunting, fishing, and birding guides to take them out into the surrounding wilderness areas if Drake or Brett were unavailable that day.
Shannon continued to go to her clinic, though now she found herself leaving the premises more and more often. After Brett's injury, she was frequently called upon to treat injured bear shifters at their homes or on their ranches.
She had become accustomed to an urgent summons as a vehicle roared into the clinic's gravel parking lot with news of an injury, followed by the scramble of gathering up supplies and a swift drive over to one of the neighboring ranches or out to one of the wilderness areas.
Her nights were spent in Rafe's bed, maki
ng love with him and sleeping in his arms.
Despite her continued feeling of impending doom, she had never been happier.
No one had ever loved and protected her the way Rafe did, his every action fiercely loving, whether it was saving her from wolf shifters or bringing her lunch every day.
As the days passed, she clung to her happiness and tried to ignore her gnawing fear that this might only be a fleeting idyll.
When a full week had gone by and nothing had happened, even Shannon began to relax a little.
Then Erik Redclaw appeared at her clinic just after she opened it for the morning, and her world went to hell.
When she heard the gravel crunching under multiple feet outside, she figured that someone had gotten hurt and his or her friends were escorting the patient to her clinic.
She had her bandages cabinet open and was washing her hands when the clinic door opened.
And an unfamiliar male voice asked, "Shannon Joyce?"
A jolt of terror tore through her like a lightning bolt. Outside of Hal, Rafe, Brett, and Drake, no one in Elysia knew her by that name.
Her heart pounding, she whirled around to face her visitors.
And came face to face with a group of Beast Warriors wearing WSS fatigues.
Wolf shifters!
Like the bear shifters she had met, these men were tall and extremely muscular. And they were heavily armed, with swords and big knives on their belts and military carbines in their hands at the ready.
But it was their eager expressions that frightened her the most. Someone sniggered at her reaction.
"Don't bother screaming," sneered their commanding officer, whom she recognized from her dream. "There's no one around to hear you."
His features were narrow and fine-boned, with high cheekbones, freckled skin, and bright blue eyes fringed with sandy lashes. As she had seen in her dream, he had bright copper hair and a short beard to match.
Shannon drew a shaking breath and forced herself to speak calmly. "Erik Redclaw, I presume?"