Going Polar: A Stand Alone Holiday Howls Polar Bear Shifter Romance

by Abbie Zanders

  In real life, women might become vicious during the agony of a difficult childbirth, but they did not turn into polar bears who tried to bite and maul people attempting to help them.

  Luckily, it wasn’t Lainey’s first time dealing with a mama bear in distress. Her training kicked in, and she was able to shove her disbelief to the side and do what she had to do.

  Six hours later, she stepped out of that same room, knowing a lot more than she had when she went in. The important thing was, Finn’s sister was resting comfortably, and both babies were alive and healthy.

  “Thank you,” Finn said, his eyes filled with emotion.

  Lainey nodded. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain in her side was becoming harder to ignore. She counted herself lucky. Not many people walked away from getting swatted by a full-grown polar bear. If Finn’s mother hadn’t shoved her out of the way at the last second, it would have been much, much worse.

  Finn’s eyes latched on to her left side, where her sleeve and a part of her shirt now hung in red-soaked tatters. “You’re hurt.”

  He took a step toward her, his face creased in worry. She took a step back and held up her hand in a stop gesture. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him at that moment.

  “Don’t. Can I use your bathroom, please?”

  “Lainey ...”

  The look in his eyes was one of a different kind of pain, but Lainey was at her limit.

  “Don’t. Not now. I need time to process. And maybe a new shirt.”

  He didn’t look happy about it, but he clenched his jaw and nodded. She followed him to a large bathroom just beyond the kitchen, and then she stepped inside and closed the door.

  Lainey removed the phone from her pocket and set it on the vanity. The heavy-duty case had fared better than her shirt, with only hairline crack in the corner of the screen to show for it.

  After gingerly removing what was left of her shirt, Lainey wet a washcloth and carefully wiped away the blood to get a look at the damage. A brief self-exam confirmed what she’d suspected; the cuts weren’t deep, though she’d have a few new scars to add to her collection.

  She found a bottle of antiseptic in the medicine cabinet and splashed some of that on, too, hissing against the burn. It wasn’t the first time she’d been mauled by an animal in the throes of pain; chances were, it wouldn’t be her last.

  She wasn’t going to think about that now. In fact, she wasn’t going to think about anything until she was safely back in her suite with a bottle of wine. Maybe two.

  She dabbed at the cuts, pleased to see that the bleeding had mostly stopped. She ripped what was left of her shirt into strips, wrapping them around her arm and ribs as makeshift bandages.

  Finn knocked softly on the door. She opened it just far enough to accept the shirt he held out and then closed it again. Thankfully, the shirt was big enough to make it easy to get on.

  He was waiting for her in the hall when she emerged.

  “Can you take me back to the lodge, please?”

  Finn nodded.

  The woman who’d pushed her out of the way earlier was in the kitchen with tears in her eyes. She pulled Lainey into a gentle but fervent hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The older man who’d opened the door earlier was also there. He didn’t say anything to Lainey, but there were tears in his eyes too.

  The ride back to the lodge was a slower, smoother affair than the frantic ride out. Lainey was glad for that; every bump and turn hurt more than the last.

  It was dark when they arrived. Stiff, sore, and exhausted, Lainey got off the snowmobile and began walking. When Finn began to follow her, she stopped him once again.

  “Not tonight, Finn.”

  “Please, Lainey. We need to talk about what happened.”

  “Yeah, we do,” she agreed. “But not tonight.”

  “Tomorrow then.”

  Without answering, Lainey turned away and started walking. Then, she paused and asked him the question forefront in her mind, “If this hadn’t happened, would you have told me?”

  He hesitated for only a moment before answering. “No.”

  Lainey hadn’t felt so exhausted since her residency days. She was drained, both mentally and physically. And sore. Even a glancing blow from an adult polar bear was enough to cause some serious bruising and throw a few vertebrae out of whack. And while getting pushed out of the way had probably saved her life, the resulting body slam against the wall hadn’t done her any favors either.

  After taking some over-the-counter painkillers, Lainey skipped the wine and took a shower, redressed her wounds and changed into soft flannel pajamas. She slid beneath the covers, ready to put the day behind her, but as tired as her body was, her brain wasn’t ready to let go.

  Polar bear shifters are real. And Finn’s sister is one of them.

  Did that mean everyone in his family was a shifter? That he was? That the ability to turn into a furry, nine-foot, thousand-pound white beast was as much a part of his genetics as was the fact that she was tall and blonde and her eyes were blue?

  Or was it more like what happened in late-night horror flicks, where someone was transformed through a bite or a scratch?

  She ran her hand over her injuries. Would she? Other than being tired and sore and confused, she didn’t feel any different.

  The bottom line was, Lainey didn’t know. They didn’t teach this kind of thing in veterinary school.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know either. Clearly, the existence of shifters was not a well-known fact, which meant there might be repercussions to knowing.

  Did she think Finn would hurt her? No, she didn’t. But that didn’t mean others would feel the same way. And if they did, would they go to extreme measures to protect their secrets?

  That train of thought led to even more questions. Who did know? Was the whole town in on it or only a select few? And now that she knew, would there be consequences?

  Eventually, Lainey drifted off into a fitful sleep, wondering what the next day would bring.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Finn

  “You shouldn’t have brought her here,” Hildie told Finn, cuddling her two little ones, a boy and a girl. “But I’m so glad you did.”

  Finn was too. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have lost his sister and his niece and nephew if he hadn’t brought Lainey in to help. She’d been magnificent. So capable and skilled.

  “I’m sorry I hurt her,” Hildie added.

  Finn thought of the raw claw marks he’d glimpsed and felt a wave of guilt. They should have done a better job of anticipating what might happen. If his mother hadn’t been right there, it could have been so much worse.

  “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I know. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel awful about it. How is she handling everything anyway? It must have been quite a shock.”

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “She was still processing when I dropped her off last night.”

  Hildie’s brows furrowed. “You didn’t stay with her?”

  In a manner of speaking, he had but not the way he’d wanted to. He’d spent the night sitting in the shadows of her deck, just in case she needed him—or better yet, wanted him around.

  “Not to her knowledge.” He exhaled. “I’m heading back there today. I just hope she’ll see me.”

  “You really like this girl, huh?” Hildie asked softly.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I do, but ...” She’s human. She’s got a job and a life, and she is leaving in three days.

  He didn’t have to say any of those things. Hildie already knew.

  “But nothing. Talk to her. Give her all the information.”

  “She already has enough information to destroy us. What if she decides to go public?”

  “You knew that was a risk when you brought her here,” Hildie said quietly. “That tells me, in your heart of hearts, you trust her. My advice: trust your instincts. Talk to her. Let h
er decide what she’s going to do with it. If she’s as good a person as I think she is, she’ll make the right choice.”

  Lainey

  THE RHYTHMIC THUMPS that dragged her out of the depths were getting louder.

  “Go away,” Lainey mumbled into her pillow, pulling the covers up over her head.

  This was the second day in a row she’d been woken from a sound sleep by someone pounding on her door. It was like being on call at the animal hospital, except she wasn’t on call. She was on vacation and more than a thousand miles from home.

  Then, she thought about Finn’s sister and felt a stab of guilt. She was glad she had been able to help.

  She listened. The knocks were insistent but not urgent, which meant she could ignore them and hope whoever it was went away. She wasn’t ready to talk to Finn yet, and if anyone from the lodge was trying to coax her into more group activities, they could go take a flying leap. In fact, she might not leave her room for the remainder of her trip.

  “Lainey, if you don’t open up this door right now, I’m going to get the manager and have him open it.”

  Lainey’s eyes popped open at the familiar voice issuing the threat, certain she was hearing things. “Henry?”

  She threw off the covers and got out of bed anyway, wincing when her aching body and healing wounds protested. She threw open the door, and yep, there was Henry.

  Could this vacation get any more bizarre?

  “What are you doing here?”

  Henry moved inside. Lainey peered out into the corridor, finding it empty.

  She closed the door and asked, “Is Vicki with you?”

  “No.”

  “What’s going on? Why are you here?” Lainey asked again.

  “You haven’t been answering your phone.”

  She gaped at him. “That’s why you flew up here? Because I didn’t answer my phone?”

  “It was Christmas, Lainey! With you being up here in the middle of arctic nowhere ...” He ran his hand through his hair, a familiar tell that indicated he was beyond upset, more so than he should have been for a call that wasn’t answered right away. “You always respond. When you didn’t, I got worried.”

  Lainey frowned. “I did wish you a merry Christmas, right after midnight. I don’t remember seeing any missed calls or messages after that.”

  In fact, she wasn’t even quite sure where her phone was. She vaguely remembered putting it on the vanity when she’d cleaned herself up at Finn’s parents’ house, but she didn’t recall seeing it when she’d undressed the night before.

  “I’m sorry I worried you,” Lainey told him, checking her coat pockets. “I must have lost my phone.”

  “How did you do that? And why are you moving like that? Are you hurt?”

  “I went snowmobiling yesterday,” she said, searching for something she could safely tell him. “I need coffee. How about I order us some breakfast, and you can tell me why you’re really here?”

  “VICKI AND I HAD A FALLING-out,” Henry admitted later over a plate of pancakes.

  “Over what?”

  “I wanted to take her out for a romantic dinner. Just the two of us. I had it all planned out. Reservations at a Michelin-star restaurant. Wine. Chocolate. Caviar. The works.”

  “Sounds nice. What happened?”

  “Vicki wanted to go to a party instead. That’s all we had been doing—hitting one get-together after another. When we weren’t going out, Vicki’s parents were hosting. It was nonstop. I just wanted to spend an evening alone with her, you know?”

  “Understandable.”

  “Well, I put my foot down for once. She said I was being selfish. I said I wasn’t going, and you know what she did? She went without me.” He stabbed a sausage link and waved it in the air. “To be honest, it’d been building for a while. But that was the final straw. I got up early Christmas morning and left.”

  “And you decided to come here?”

  Henry shrugged. “Where else was I going to go? You’re the only family I have. I know I haven’t been the best brother lately, but I thought we could take a couple days, have some fun, and then head back together. What do you say?”

  Lainey forced a smile. “Sure. Sounds great.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Finn

  Finn wanted to believe Hildie was right. That once he explained everything, Lainey would understand. Assuming she was even willing to speak with him, that was.

  At least the universe had given him a slight break there. Lainey had left her phone behind at his parents’ place. Even if she didn’t want to talk to him, she’d want her phone back, and that gave him an opening.

  Worst-case scenario: she took her phone, told him to get lost, and threatened to expose them all. If that happened, he’d have to go to the Alliance and get them involved. They’d try to reason with her. If that wasn’t successful, the shifters who called Aurora Falls home would have to go into hiding, and the town would have to find some other way to survive.

  He couldn’t see her doing that though. Lainey didn’t have a mean bone in her body. But her never wanting to see him again? That was a real concern. He’d been fooling himself, believing he could enjoy her company for a short while and then simply let her go.

  He liked her. Really, really liked her. As in he wanted to drag her back to his den and spend the rest of his life with her liked her. He’d never experienced anything like it, but now that he had, there was no going back.

  Was that love? Maybe some would say so, but for shifters, the feeling went deeper than a single emotion. It was a sense of absolute rightness in finding that one person you bonded with on all levels.

  Finn was convinced, for him, that person was Lainey.

  The suspicion had been there in the back of his mind, strengthening with each moment he spent with her. The most convincing evidence was how difficult it was not to mark her. The urge had been nearly overwhelming, and that only happened when a shifter found the right one.

  The problem was, Lainey wasn’t half-animal. Instincts and urges didn’t hold as much sway for humans. They often suppressed them in favor of logic and a false sense of confidence in the world around them.

  Which meant, he had his work cut out for him. He had only a few days to convince Lainey that, one, they belonged together, and two, she could not reveal the truth about shifters. Both were difficult asks, but he had to have faith in her.

  When he reached her door, Finn took a deep breath and ... detected the scent of an unknown male. If he’d had any doubt that Lainey was his mate, the white-hot urge to shift and battle for her would have clued him in.

  Luckily, logic edged slightly ahead of primal instinct, and he made a concerted effort not to smash the door to smithereens when he lifted his hand and knocked.

  The muted murmur of voices ceased, and then Lainey opened the door. “Finn.”

  With a quick scan, Finn looked beyond Lainey, taking in the rumpled bed through the open door to the bedroom and the smell of breakfast. Beneath that, Lainey’s delicious scent and that of the unknown male. A growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Lainey. May I come in?”

  She didn’t immediately answer. She chewed her bottom lip, as if considering it, and then nodded. Finn breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped inside and scanned the space for his new nemesis.

  The unknown male wasted no time in coming to Lainey’s side, coffee in hand, and proceeded to regard Finn with a similar assessing gaze as they sized each other up. The guy had blond hair. Glasses. He was tall and broad for a human but no match for Finn.

  “Finn, this is my brother, Henry. Henry, this is Finn.”

  The urge to rip and maim drained away quickly. Lainey’s brother eyed him warily as he reached out to shake his hand. Finn knew that look. It was the same one he’d given to every guy who wanted to go out with Hildie.

  “I didn’t know your brother was planning to join you.”

  “Neither did I,” Lainey said with a tight smile. “What did you want?”
>
  He wanted to look at her injuries and ensure she was okay. To talk to her about what had happened. To confess that she was his mate. But he couldn’t do any of those things with her brother watching them with undisguised interest.

  “I found your phone,” he said instead, extracting the device from his pocket.

  She reached for it. Her fingers brushed his in the process, a stroke of sensation at the point of contact, but they didn’t linger. “Thanks. It must have fallen out when we were snowmobiling yesterday.”

  Well, that answered one question. Lainey hadn’t shared his secret. Not yet anyway.

  An awkward moment of silence stretched between them before she said, “Henry, would you excuse us for a moment, please?”

  Henry looked between the two of them and then said, “Sure.”

  They waited until he went into the bedroom and closed the door.

  Finn’s gaze raked along her side. “How are you?”

  “I’ll live,” she said quietly. “Before you ask, I haven’t said anything about what I saw—or thought I saw—yesterday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How are Hildie and the ... kids?”

  “Alive and well, thanks to you.”

  She nodded soberly.

  “She’d like to talk to you. To thank you and to apologize for what happened. My parents too.”

  Her eyes flicked to the bedroom, where her brother waited. “I ... can’t.”

  “We have to talk about this.”

  “Why?” she asked quietly.

  “Because I need to explain.”

  “No, you don’t. I’ll keep your secret. Who would believe me anyway?”

  “Lainey ... it’s not just that. I can’t simply walk away, and it’s not for the reasons you think.”

  She said nothing, but she was listening, so he continued, “Please. An hour—that’s all I’m asking for. If, after you hear what I have to say, you still want to walk away, fine. But I’m not going to give up.” He lowered his voice until it was barely above a whisper and leaned closer. “If you know anything about polar bears, then you know how tenacious we can be when it comes to something we really want.”