Kodiak Moment: Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (6 page)

And that was it, at the heart of it. She didn’t care that James was a bear. She was falling in love with this man, and his bear form didn’t bother her. It was just another part of him.

And all the conventions of her normal life dictated that she should be freaking out, should be running for civilization as fast as she could, but she wasn’t.

Marie sat silently and let her work all this out, and Nessa was fairly sure that her emotions were playing out on her face like it was a filmstrip.

“Why doesn’t this bother me?” she repeated. Marie shrugged, palms held outwards and upwards.

“You’re the only one who can answer that, Nessa, but I can tell you that you’re not alone. It’s not a bad thing, to be accepting. It’s not a bad thing at all.”

“Thank you,” Nessa said gratefully.

“Happy to help.” Marie grinned. “But I didn’t do much. Just cleared away some of the cobwebs so that you could work things out yourself.”

There was a sharp whistle from somewhere behind them, and Marie was up from her chair in a flash. “That’s my call,” she said brightly. “Nice talking to you, Nessa, and I hope you stick around long enough for me to arrange some introductions for you. Take care!”

“Thanks,” Nessa said again as Marie disappeared, and then looked down at the stacks of books she had found.

Shifters were real, and this didn’t bother her. She had no urge to run to the papers. Shifters were real, and she was in love with one.

She loved James.

That was all that was important.

She took a few minutes to file the books back in the right places, to the approval of the librarian, before she headed out of the building. She contemplated taking a turn around the town, see a few of the sights, but pushed the thought aside, since she did want to get some work done before the night came again. She crossed the road and headed back to her car.

The rain continued on the drive back to the cabin, and when she arrived back at her temporary home, the rain seemed like it was on for good. It sifted down out of the dark sky in a constant stream, soaking her to the skin in minutes. Nessa grabbed her camera case, braced herself, and trotted off into the woods in search of photo opportunities.

She thought that she was following the same path that James had led her on the previous day, but the fog rising from the ground and the falling rain made it hard to tell. All trees looked the same to her, even if they were photogenic. The white curls of fog created an eerie atmosphere, and she stopped occasionally to take photos.

After about half an hour, she wasn’t sure if she was still heading in a straight line. She’d also nearly fallen in a dry creek bed. She hadn’t reached the clearing that had held the caribou, but then animals had probably more sense than to stand out in the rain and get soaked. She looked up at the sky, and as if in answer, the rain began to come down heavier, whistling through the branches of the trees.

Off to her right, she could hear the burble of water running over rocks, just audible over the noise of the rain. Where there was running water, there was the chance for photographs, and the chance to find some animals. Rather than make this a wasted trip, she turned and trudged off through the undergrowth.

The sound of the water grew louder, and Nessa emerged from the undergrowth to a more cleared area. A stream, swollen by the rain, burbled through a small rocky ditch, water tinged brown with carried soil. It was picturesque, and would have been more so, if it wasn’t for the ever-present rain. Nessa snapped a few pictures and then packed her camera away. She was cold, soaked to the skin, and hoped that James would be back at the cabin. She needed to talk to him.

As she turned away from the stream to retrace her footsteps, her boot caught on the soft ground. Saturated with water, the soil gave way as the bank crumbled. Nessa felt her ankle turn, and the flash of pain disorientated her. As her balance went, she couldn’t find it again. She fell, and the cold stream water rushed over her. Then her head hit a rock, and blackness engulfed her.

***

James paced backwards and forwards within his cabin. He walked the same path from his front door to his kitchen, occasionally looking downwards to see if he was wearing a hole in the floor. The salmon was wrapped in foil in the oven, lemon tang heavy in the air, contrasting with the sweet scent of chocolate.

As he came level with the window again, he twitched aside the curtain. Nothing had changed. Her car was still outside the cabin, and all the lights were off. A strong wind blew the sleet around in blinding eddies, and the chill coming off the glass was enough to make him keep his distance. His inner bear paced in the confines of his mind, prowling and growling, uneasy and unsettled.

She was just delayed, that was all. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in the bath, or on the couch with a book. There was no need for him to worry, she would be over soon.

Another ten minutes of pacing, another check on the resting salmon, and another twitch of the curtains. Still nothing. His bear roared a demand, and in his own worry, James was helpless to resist.

He grabbed his oilskin coat from its peg, slinging it around his shoulders. The cold wind bit into his exposed skin, and he pulled the collar of his coat up tight around his throat. He made his way across the gap between the cabins, and up onto her porch. The door was firmly locked. He knocked, waited a beat, and then knocked again. No reply.

He made a circuit of the cabin, checking in every window. Quiet, empty, deserted. There was no sign of life. His anxiety was growing, and his skin rippled and twitched as his bear demanded that he find his mate now. He moved round to the back of the cabin, where damage would not be seen. With a silent vow to himself to fix the damage as soon as possible, he planted himself firmly, pivoted, and drove his heel firmly against the catch. Wood splintered and popped, finally giving way on the third blow.

He entered the house, breathing in deeply, searching for the fragrance that belonged to his mate. It was there, but faint, faded. She was not here, had not been here for a while. Nevertheless, he took the time to stalk from room to room. She was not there.

He left the cabin at a jog, forcing the door closed again, hopefully it would hold. Beside her car, he found a clear footprint, oriented in the direction of the tree line. He growled under his breath and followed, finding another footprint.

The wind picked up, keening mournfully through the trees, and James shivered. His inner bear demanded to be set free, to find his mate, and James had had enough of resisting.

He let himself go and shifted, body burning with heat, burning away the chill of the air. The world sprang into life, and he let the bear take over. His mate needed to be found.

The forest, this forest was his home, his territory, and he knew it well. He knew every scent, knew what belonged and what didn’t. She did not belong in the forest, and her sweetness, although muted by the rain, was sourness amongst the pines. She was easy to follow.

The great Kodiak bear made his way through the sodden and arctic night, traveling in a straight line, determined to find the object of his affections. She was his, and his alone. No one and nothing would take her away from him.

The first visual sign the bear came across was a long, dark gouge taken out of the side of a small channel. Two handprints were nearly eroded on the opposite bank, but they confirmed that she had been there.

Time passed, although the bear did not notice, or care.

Finally, though the rain was trying to melt it, the unique scent of his mate filled the air. She was close, so close now, and the bear tried his best to work out her location.

She lay half in and half out of a small stream, visible in the moonlight, her red hair wetted and plastered tight to her skull. A black bruise flowered on her temple, and she shivered sharply, even in unconsciousness. The bear rumbled worriedly, nosing gently at his mate. She twitched at the touch of his nose, and he did in again, just to elicit a reaction.

Hands were of more use to him, and the bear retreated, leaving James kneeling at Nessas side. She was cold to the touch, and her lips were bluing with the cold. He stripped off his oilskin and laid it over her, gently stroking her cheek to rouse her.

She blinked slowly, eyes cracking open, trying to see through the darkness and the rain. As her eyes opened, he let out a relieved sigh.

“Hold still, sweet. I’ve got you.”

“James?” she asked.

“None other. Lets get you back to the heat.”

He scooped her up, bridal style, cradling her in tight, with the oilskin still draped over her. He pushed himself up from his knees one at a time, bracing himself carefully. Nessa made an inarticulate noise and burrowed her head into his chest, her eyes sliding fully closed again.

He made his way back through the trees, letting the bear’s fading senses guide his own. It was unhappy at the state of its chosen mate and was lingering longer than usual, guiding him, helping him.

His mate. His Nessa.

He wanted to rage at her for risking herself, he wanted to hold her close so that she would never face danger again. He wanted her, and her alone. And these feelings were all his, not those of the bear. He wanted her, wanted to see if this woman could accept him in his entirety.

In a short span, she had opened his eyes and his mind.

The cabin was a welcome sight and brought his mental soul-searching and realizations to an end. Nessa was still asleep in his arms, some of the blue color fading from her lips. The fire in the hearth, once leaping high was now nothing more than glowing embers. As he knelt to lay Nessa on the rug in front of the hearth, James tried to think what to do.

He left her there, wrapped in his coat, throwing a handful of sticks on the embers to get the fire burning again. He grabbed a few towels from the bathroom, and a quilt from the bedroom, before returning to her side. The flames were beginning to catch, but without the heat of his body, she had started to shiver.

Her clothes were soaked through, clinging coldly to her skin. Methodically, James stripped her, wrapping her in a towel every time he exposed another piece of skin. Gradually her shivering reduced, and her face eased into lines of relaxation. When he was sure that she was dry, he wrapped the quilt around her and laid a hand gently on her cheek.

She cracked one eye open at the touch, feeling wrapped in a cocoon of gathering warmth. She tilted her head into the caressing touch and felt him start with surprise.

“You should be resting, sweet,” he said.

It was hard to form the words through the haze of tiredness, but Nessa did her best. “Am.”

“Warm enough?”

“Am. Want you.”

“You just want me for my heat,” he joked, even as he lay down beside her, spooning around her.

“Bear warmer, better on floor.” She tried to make the words clear, but felt her lover stiffen. “Saw you. Was upset, not now.”

“We’ll talk later, sweet. Rest.”

“Change,” she demanded as best she could.

She could feel the struggle through tension in James’s body, and felt the moment when he made up his mind and relented. There was a soft inhalation of breath, he pressed a kiss to her neck, and then she felt a change of pressure in the air. Heat pressed against her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she felt sleep rushing to claim her. As she fell into the blackness, fur tickled against the back of her neck, and she fell asleep to the contented rumbling of the great bear.

***

Nessa woke slowly, wrapped in heat that soothed her aching bones. Her head was aching and fuzzy, but as she came round, the memories unspooled through her mind. Against her back she could feel the heat of the bear, and hear his calm and even breathing. Carefully, she rolled herself over, to face her rescuer.

He was massive, making the room feel cramped and confined. He was heavily muscled, with foot pads the size of dinner plates. And she was not afraid of him. His fur was a rich deep brown, and she gave in to the urge to wriggle a hand free. She had to see if it was as soft as it looked.

Her movement rustled the towels and quilt that formed her nest, and the bear’s ears twitched. Just as she reached out and delicately placed one hand on his shoulder, his eyes opened.

She pressed against the thick fur, feeling the rumble of his breathing. His eyes stared straight into her own, and she could see the clear intelligence there. As she watched, the mist seemed to rise out of the cabin floor and coalesce around him. The fur under her fingers softened and seemed to dissolve. There was James again, lying beside her, and her hand was on his shoulder.

“Hey, sweet. Feeling better?”

“Much,” Nessa replied, grateful for the ability to talk in full sentences again now that the tiredness was gone. The questions that she wanted answers to twitched on her tongue, but she didn’t let any of them out. Instead, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and drew him in for a long, sweet kiss. She breathed in his scent and flicked her tongue out to taste his lips.

“Not that I’m complaining, sweet,” he said when she pulled back. “But what was that for?”

“For coming to find me. For caring. For everything,” she said, feeling unaccountably shy.