by Sophie Stern
I move back farther, deeper into the cave, and I sit there. The only sound in the cave is my own breathing, and after a moment, I shift into my girl form and sit there in my human body. Tears are sliding down my face, and I don't know what to do now. I cover my eyes, trying not to sob, and my body shakes silently.
How could I have been so stupid?
Team Shifter is supposed to be a fun, exciting app. It's supposed to be a way to meet people where you can connect with them in a way that doesn't involve losing your damn mind. It's the type of app where you're supposed to judge people based on their personality - not their looks.
And I screwed it all up.
I close my eyes and shake my head. I'm going to be okay. After all of this is over and done with, I'll be fine. I have to be.
An hour passes. Maybe more time. I'm not sure. I wrap my arms around myself and rock back and forth quietly. Part of me wonders why this sort of thing happened to me. Another part of me wonders if I’m ever going to recover. Am I ever going to be able to move past this? I was excited about this date. I was anxious about it. For the first time in a very long time, I felt sexy and desired and just so very wanted.
Those were good feelings, but I picked the wrong guy, I guess. Only, I don’t understand why he wanted to hunt me. I can’t understand whether it was a different guy who showed up or whether the guy I was chatting with was a little bit crazy. Somehow, as I’m thinking back, there were a few random things that didn’t add up. He would take a long time to respond to my messages sometimes, and sometimes his stories would have little inconsistencies, but I never really paid too much attention. Okay, so maybe he was a predator. I was just the last person to know about it.
It’s hard being in the cave now. Even though I’m scared, this was the last place I ever spent time with Brendan. It’s getting darker in the cave, but I can still remember exactly what this place looks like. What’s worse is that I can remember how I felt when I was here.
I felt so alive with him in his place.
The sun sets, finally casting darkness over the forest and taking away the last slivers of light that made their way into the cave. Only then do I shift back into my fox form and leave the cave. I realize that I can't go home. More importantly: I don't want to go home. This tiger probably knows where I live, and I don't want to risk being there.
Living alone has its perks, but being murdered isn't one of them.
Only, where else am I supposed to go?
I trudge slowly back to town, tail tucked between my legs. I know where I'm going to go, but I'm not happy about it. I can't go to my mom's house. My little brother is there. If the tiger happened to track me there or realized exactly how special he is to me, I know that I'd be screwed.
Instead, I circle around to the north side of town and slowly approach the little blue farmhouse that's just at the edge of everything.
I reach the porch and climb up to the front door, and then I sit there for a long time.
Should I knock?
This is stupid.
I should knock, though, right?
Finally, just when I've made up my mind to shift into my human form and knock, the door flies open and two legs appear in front of me.
"For fuck's sake, Foxy," he says. "It's been twenty minutes. Just come inside."
Chapter 2
Brendan
The fact that I haven't seen or spoken to Foxy in five years should be reason enough for me to ignore the fact that she's on my porch, but I can't. Foxy avoids me just as carefully as I avoid her, so the reality is that this must be some sort of emergency.
She's in her fox form, after all, and she wastes no time in darting past my legs, into my house, and hiding under a chair. She’s anxious, and she smells like fear and sadness. Something’s happened to her, apparently, and she chose this place as her refuge. My heart clenches as I realize that she’s had a bad night, and I hate seeing her sad. She’s not my problem anymore, I know. We aren’t dating. We aren’t together. We don’t have any sort of relationship, but she’s scared, and she’s here.
I stare at her for a long time before I finally close my door. I’m not entirely sure what to do, but I’m sure she’ll tell me what’s wrong soon enough. I move into the first-floor bedroom and grab a soft blanket. Then I come back out and gently urge her to come out from under the armchair.
"Come on, Foxy."
She shakes her little fox-face, eyes blinking up at me. Her mouth is clamped shut, but her eyes are wide as she takes everything in.
"I have a blanket," I tell her, carefully trying to coax her.
Foxy has always been very special and very sweet. She's always been what I would consider to be a "good girl."
She's not the kind of girl who gets in trouble.
So why the fuck did she just show up at my house at 10:00 on a Tuesday night?
And why is she in her fox form?
"Foxy, it's time to come out from under the chair."
She shakes her head this time, and I raise an eyebrow.
I really, really didn't want to resort to this. I know how she feels about her full name, but it's time for her to come out, shift back, and tell me what the fuck is going on. Obviously, something - or someone - scared the shit out of her. She's whimpering under a fucking chair. She's scared out of her mind, and I want to comfort her, but I can't do anything until I know what's wrong.
"Felicity Anastasia Martin," I say in my deepest, firmest voice. "Come out from under the chair right now."
I don't add "or else."
We're not lovers anymore.
We don't play silly sex games with each other.
We're broken up.
But using her full name seems to work as far as getting her attention goes, and she slowly, reluctantly, comes out from under the chair.
I hold out the blanket and she crawls into it. I wrap it around her tightly, pick her up, and carry her to the couch. Then I sit down, and I tug her into my lap. Fuck. Even after all of these years, I can't stand her being scared or sad or hurt. Even when I was the one hurting her, I hated knowing that our break-up caused her pain. I hated knowing that what happened between us was something that agitated her: that hurt her.
She shifts back into her human form and she wraps her arms around me and snuggles me, pressing her body against mine. I close my eyes and I just hold her as she starts to sob. These aren't tiny cries, either: they're big, gut-wrenching sobs, and to be honest, they scare me a little bit.
"Felicity, what happened?"
Nothing.
"Foxy, tell me."
She shakes her head.
I reach for her chin and grip it, forcing her to look at me, and then I whisper.
"Princess Fox, what happened to you?"
It's a nickname from long ago: a nickname I should have forgotten. It was a title forged from love, and to be honest, it’s not something that’s appropriate for me to use anymore.
It’s a personal name.
Foxy and I…
Well, we aren’t personal anymore.
“I…someone’s hunting me,” she whispers.
“What?”
“Hunting,” she repeats.
“Hunting you?”
Who the hell would hunt a fox?
“Do you mean that someone thought you were an actual fox, and not a shifting one?” I ask, trying to clear up what she’s talking about, but she shakes her head.
“No.”
“Foxy, start from the beginning.”
Because she’s not making any sense, and I desperately, more than anything else, want to help her right now. I want to understand what she’s going through and I want to help her figure out what the problem is. There’s a part of me that is so very thrilled she chose me to talk to today. It’s probably wrong, but…
Well, it feels pretty good to have Foxy in my arms again. The truth is that I’ve missed her every day we’ve been apart. There hasn’t been a single day where I didn’t want her near me, where I didn’
t need her. I’ve never stopped wanting her, and now that she’s here…
It kind of hurts a little bit. If I could have the chance to go punch whoever is chasing her, though? Well, that might make me feel a little bit better, I daresay.
“I…I used Team Shifter,” she says, and I close my eyes, pissed.
Why the hell was Foxy using a dating app? Especially one like that? There are people in Claw Valley who swear by this app. I’ve got a couple of friends who found their mates on it, so it can definitely work. It can. This app connects you with someone who understands you, and it gives you the chance to get to know someone without worrying about appearances, which is so important when you’re looking for a partner.
I get it.
I really do.
Everyone’s looking for love, and so many people look for it in the wrong places, but Foxy?
Foxy doesn’t need a dating app to find love. She’s gorgeous, for one thing. She’s got the personality of a saint, for another. Even though we aren’t dating anymore, and even though our breakup ended pretty horribly, I’ve never stopped thinking she was an incredible person: a wonderful person. She’s the type of girl who always looks out for those around her.
“Why?” I finally manage to get the word out, but damn, it’s kind of hard to do.
“I wanted to date.” She whispers her answer. “I wanted…I wanted to find someone.”
So she doesn’t have to be alone.
Yeah, I get it.
We all want that.
Probably the worst thing about being single is the feeling of total isolation and loneliness that tends to sneak up on you at the worst times. For years after she left, I’d catch myself thinking of her, wanting to pick up the phone and call her. Something funny would happen and I’d have to stop myself before I would just reach for the phone. She broke up with me. She left. It was her. She was the one who walked away, and I needed to make sure that I respected that.
Having her here in my house in the middle of the night is not what I was planning when I made dinner, or when I fed my cat, or when I sat down to read. I was expecting to have a chill night. I wasn’t expecting a ghost from the past in the form of a beautiful fox girl to knock on my door.
“What happened?”
We need to start with the basics and figure out exactly what the problem is. Was she approached by someone on the way to her date? Was it the guy himself? Did someone show up who wasn’t supposed to be there? The more information she can give me, the better.
“It…the meet went wrong.” The words come out slowly, carefully. She’s not sure how to word this. I think that she’s still in shock from whatever happened, so I’ll give her a few minutes. Part of me is so wildly relieved that she came here and that I was home to help her. I don’t want to think about what could have happened to her if I wasn’t around.
I wait quietly. She’s starting to calm down, which is good. She’s safe here. I’m sure as hell not about to let anything happen to Foxy. Not on my watch. I’m not under the impression that I owe her a damn thing, but Foxy and I go way back. I’m not about to let her feel sad or scared or afraid. I’m not going to let her feel anything but safety and comfort right now.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to pull her over my knees and give her the sweetest, most satisfying spanking of her damn life.
Team Shifter?
Shit.
The dating app isn’t bad, per say, but when you go meet strangers you’ve never met before, you’re supposed to be smart about it. She should have told someone – anyone. She could have told Meredith where she was going, or her mother, and she could have chosen to meet in a public place.
She didn’t.
Now some asshole is trying to hurt her, and that just makes me want to kill the damn guy.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
And why does he think he has a right to hurt Felicity?
“Tell me.”
“We were supposed to meet and scent each other. That’s how it works.”
“I’m aware,” I say drily. I haven’t been in a real relationship since Felicity and I broke up. I’ve always been convinced that she was my one true mate. Even as a younger shifter, I felt that. It was always just supposed to be the two of us together. I may have only been in my early twenties when we dated, but something within me just knew what our destiny was supposed to be. Her running off? Her breaking up with me? That wasn’t supposed to be how we ended.
“I don’t know where it went wrong,” she shakes her head and looks up at me like I’m supposed to have all of the answers, and honestly, I wish that I did, but I don’t.
“Start from the beginning,” I encourage her.
“We’ve been…talking.”
So they’ve been sexting. The thought doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. I’m not the jealous type, especially when we haven’t been dating, but I dislike the fact that this guy saw her naked and then proceeded to scare her.
“And he seemed really fun and sweet and sensitive.” She shakes her head, blushing. “He listens to all of my problems, Brendan.”
“I’m sure that he does,” I say diplomatically, but there’s a part of me that wants to know what those problems are. Has Foxy been lonely? Has she been struggling with work? We live in a small town. It’s not hard to hear through the grapevine what she’s been up to. Besides, Foxy’s best friend, Meredith, seems to have a personal interest in keeping me updated with Foxy’s every move. It’s kind of annoying, actually.
“But when I went to meet him, I just had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.”
“Those feelings are important,” I agree. “They’re one of the ways we can stay safe and protect ourselves. What gave you the idea that something was wrong?”
She wraps her arms tighter around herself. Foxy is still wearing the blanket I gave her, and I’m trying not to think about how sweet and wonderful she looks. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, I remind myself, and this isn’t permanent. She’s only here for a short time. She’s not here long-term. She’s not here to date me or to be my mate. She just needed shelter. That’s right. Shelter. I meet her eyes, and I wait for her. How did she know her date was going to be a problem?
“Something about his scent. I don’t know. It was just…strange. So I turned to leave, but I was too slow. He pinned me.” She blushes again, but this isn’t a sexy sort of blush. This is the kind of blush from a creature who was tricked, trapped, and who is embarrassed about that.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask, gritting the words out. I don’t want to embarrass her, and I will never victim-shame her, but I swear on the love of my mother, if this guy laid a fucking hand on her, I’ll rip his throat out.
“No,” she whispers.
I relax. Somehow, just that single word changes so much for me.
“You got away.”
“He shifted to his human form and started talking to me. As soon as I thought he was distracted, I scratched him with my claws and I took off running.” She looks up at me, eyes blinking brightly. “I hid in the caves until it got dark.”
She doesn’t have to tell me what caves she’s talking about.
I know perfectly well about the deep caves that fill the forest. The two of us spent plenty of time there as teenagers and well into our early 20s. Those caves were the perfect place to fall in love. They were the perfect place to lose ourselves.
“I was scared,” she whispers, and I reach for her. I pull her closer, and I wrap my arms around her. She leans against my chest and lets out this long, low sigh. It’s a sort of contented sigh, really: a happy sound that makes me think she feels safe now, and that makes me happier than I’ve felt in a long time.
It’s not fair: this moment between the two of us. In this moment, all I want to do is save her, protect her. All I want to do is pull her close and promise that no matter what happens, she’s safe now. She’s okay. She’s here with me, and I won’t let anyone hurt her.
> The problem is that she’s not exactly mine to save.
We broke up a long time ago, and Foxy? She’s on her own now. I can’t rush in and save her because the truth is that she doesn’t want that. She made that very clear when she left. She was the one who walked away. She was the one who very bluntly, very succinctly ended things between us.
So how am I supposed to help her?
What is it that I’m supposed to do?
She was scared.
She was scared in the darkness, and there was no one there to take care of sweet, perfect Felicity.
“I know,” I whisper, because there’s nothing else I can say right now. I know she was scared. I know she was afraid.
“I thought he was going to kill me.”
“I know.”
“And you know what the stupidest thing of all was?”
She whispers this part, and it catches my attention because her sniffling suddenly stops, and she looks up at me like this is the most important thing she’s ever going to say.
And I pause, because I don’t know what she’s going to tell me.
I honestly have no idea at all.
“The only thing I wanted was you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Brendan.”
And then she kisses me.
Chapter 3
Foxy
It’s so, so wrong, but it feels so good. In this moment, I forget about everything else: the past, the breakup, the fear that filled my night. My entire mind clears and the only thing I feel is him. Right now, it’s just me and him. This is exactly how it should be.
“Felicity,” he whispers, and I ignore him. He’s the only person I let use my real name. Even my own mother calls me Foxy, and I can’t quite explain why I have this policy in place except that with Brendan, it’s different. Things have always been different. With him, things have always been…special.
Unique.
And now he’s kissing me back like we haven’t just spent the last few years apart. He’s kissing me like I matter, like I’m important, and like he needs me just as much as I need him right now.
