A Christmas to Bear

by Carina Wilder

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re about to head to shifter festivities. Because I don’t feel welcome. Because I lose control too easily.”

  “I’ll keep you in check. I’m strong, like…well, I’m not really that strong. But I promise to slap you if you do something stupid.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, you know,” said Lucian, raising an eyebrow in her direction. “Actually, it sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “You’re a bit of a dirty boy, for a boy who never has sex.”

  “The dirtiest are the ones who never have sex. I’ve got to occupy my mind somehow.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They talked as they approached an area of the woods which seemed to glow faintly in the dark. Between the trees ahead, Aria saw lanterns hanging from branches and she could hear voices laughing, even singing carols.

  “This is beautiful,” she said.

  “Yeah, we shifters have a knack for this sort of thing. Really, we should all be party planners.”

  Aria laughed then. The very idea of it.

  When they stepped into the light they saw throngs of people milling about, drinking hot cider, playing carnival games. Ice sculptures of wolves, lions, eagles and bears were stationed here and there, no doubt representing Wolf Rock’s population.

  “Hey, Lucian,” said a voice coming from Aria’s right. “It’s good to see you.”

  A large, dark–haired man with light blue eyes approached and shook Lucian’s hand. Like other shifters, he was handsome, but there was something more. Aria detected an air of respect as others stood around, looking towards him, almost as though he were a celebrity.

  “Tristan. Good to see you too.” Even Lucian’s voice denoted a sort of reverence. Who was this guy?

  “And you are…?” the man asked, turning to Aria.

  “Oh, sorry. This is Aria. She’s my…a friend of mine,” said Lucian. “Aria, this is Tristan. He’s the alpha of the wolf pack here, which makes him the head of the town.”

  Aria extended her mittened hand in greeting.

  “Nice to meet you, Tristan,” she said.

  Just then, a little girl came running up and grabbed the alpha around the leg. Her large blue eyes stared up at Lucian.

  “And this is my daughter, Trista,” said Tristan, smiling. “She’s having fun. Aren’t you, sweetie?”

  The tiny girl rammed her face into her father’s jeans as though to conceal herself.

  “She’s beautiful,” said Aria.

  “Thank you.” Tristan reached down and stroked his daughter’s hair. “So listen, Lucian, I know you’re busy. But I want to talk to you sometime. I never see you around anymore.”

  “I keep to myself. You know that. It’s for the best.”

  “I disagree. And we could use a big lumbering polar bear around when trouble’s about. I hope you’ll consider spending more time in town.”

  “But, Tristan, you know about my past. You know I’ve caused problems around here. Even the other night a fox shifter tried to attack Aria here and I threw him across the street.”

  “That’s exactly why I want you around.” Tristan laughed, his tone casual. “Anyhow, think about it. Consider anything that’s happened in the past water under the bridge.”

  “I will.”

  With that, Tristan picked up his daughter and carried her off, speaking softly in her ear.

  “He seems nice,” said Aria as they walked away, observing the various booths which sold cotton candy, glow sticks and the like while pondering the odd world of shifters.

  “He is,” Lucian replied. “It’s funny; people always think alpha is a synonym of ‘asshole,’ but that’s not the case. Tristan’s one of the best guys I know.”

  “Well, then, you two should get along well. Are you going to take him up on his suggestion that you come around more?”

  “Probably not. I’ve gotten so used to being on my own. Besides, what would I do in town? I’m not a social guy. I don’t know how to be with people. Or shifters.”

  “You know how to be with me.”

  “I bit you, Aria.” Lucian stopped and looked down at her. “I hurt you.”

  “You could never hurt me. Not unless it was emotional.” Aria resisted her desire to touch his face, but it was one of the most difficult challenges she’d faced in her life.

  “I could never hurt you emotionally. You mean so much…”

  With that, he stopped and pulled her behind him, shielding her with his arms. Aria was confused until she turned and saw Trevor, the fox shifter, standing facing them. His face, in spite of Lucian’s healing, still wore signs of the altercation.

  “You fucker. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to come here,” Trevor was saying, his voice rising in a snarl. “I should have you arrested. Where’s Tristan?” He looked around now. A crowd was beginning to gather, shifters and humans alike puzzled and entertained.

  “You’d have me arrested for defending a woman against your lecherous, drunk ass? That’s mighty classy of you,” said Lucian. Aria could feel him breathing deeply, trying to hold back his bear. “Yes, please, someone find Tristan. I’m sure he’d want to hear about this.”

  Trevor took a step forward and rammed both hands into Lucian’s chest. The large man barely moved; the fox shifter was simply too small and weak in contrast to his own height and strength.

  “I wouldn’t mess with that if I were you.”

  The voice came from Tristan, who was stepping out from between members of the makeshift audience.

  “This guy nearly killed me,” said Trevor.

  “I heard. And you deserved it. And if you’d like a trial, we can have one. But I have a funny feeling that you’d rather avoid that sort of publicity for yourself, Trevor.”

  “Fuck off, alpha.”

  With those words, several of the men present took a step forward in defense of their leader.

  “Stop,” said Tristan, signalling them not to move. He turned to Lucian. “I don’t blame you, you know. For wanting to tear this guy apart. I would have done the same.”

  Lucian nodded silently.

  Tristan turned and walked away, and Trevor, sneering, made off in the opposite direction. Lucian turned back to Aria.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “About what? You’re always protecting me. You should never be sorry for that.”

  The crowd was beginning to disperse now, disappointed in the fight that never happened.

  “Aria,” said Lucian. He put his hands around her waist, pulling her towards him. The feeling was like being enveloped in warmth and affection, and she wanted it never to end. “Can I ask you a very important question?”

  “Yes.” The word slipped out on its own.

  “Would you…could you…have a cup of cider with me?”

  Aria slapped his arm hard, grinning. “You’re horrible,” she said.

  “Answer me. Please. I beg you. Don’t make me wait.”

  “Fine, Lucian. I will have a cup of cider with you.”

  “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”

  “And you’ve just made me livid. You’re lucky I don’t bite you.”

  Chapter 6

  The two spent most of the night eating, drinking and laughing together. Lucian seemed at last to be relaxing, at least a little.

  “It’s so great to have snow around,” Aria exclaimed as they walked. “That’s one thing I hate about my home in California. Christmas has never really felt like Christmas, you know? The grass shouldn’t be green at this time of the year.”

  “I agree,” said Lucian. “It should be white as a polar bear’s…white bits.”

  “I won’t ask about those for the moment. Tell me how you ended up here,” said Aria as they sat on two chairs carved of ice. The hot pastries that they were in the process of eating emitted a puff of steam which dissipated into the air around them.

  “That’s easy. I was young and heard that there was an area in the mountains where shifters
could go and stay away from civilization. It was a no–brainer.”

  “But I mean, were you always antisocial?” Aria was thinking now of her own escape to Wolf Rock, leaving everyone she loved behind.

  “No. As a kid I was friendly. I still am, sort of.” He smiled, but Aria detected a wince as well.

  “So what changed?”

  “It was my aggression. I just never learned to control it. Or to trust myself. Whether it was kissing a girl or fighting with a boy. I’ve never been able to adjust to my own strength.”

  “Don’t you think you could learn?”

  Lucian looked at her then. “I don’t know.” He reached over and took her hand in his. She felt his warmth even through her mitten. “Maybe if I had the right teacher.”

  “Lucian,” she replied. “Before Trevor showed up, you were about to say something to me.”

  “Was I? I don’t remember now.”

  Aria sank into her chair. This man was so frustrating.

  “Fine, then, I’ll say it,” she said. “I like you. But it’s not that. It’s not a question of ‘like.’ That first day we met, something happened to me. In me. I don’t know what it was. I don’t know how to explain it. You mean something to me. I don’t want to let go of you.”

  “But you have to. So do I.” He stood now, looking down at her. “It’s getting late. I should walk you home.”

  Aria felt a dagger in her heart. This man, who was supposed to be so undisciplined, was so good at simply stating that they were not to be together. It didn’t seem fair. How was it that emotions were eating her up and he seemed fine?

  She rose and they walked in silence for a time, back down the trail towards town.

  “I can’t stand this,” she said finally.

  “What?”

  “This. Whatever it is. You and me. I have feelings for you. I don’t know how; it’s all happened so fast.”

  “You only think you do because I helped you.”

  Aria stopped in her tracks. “How dare you say that?” She felt her eyes tear up and the already dark shape in front of her went blurry.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “God, no, it’s not true. I’m not some fucking damsel in distress, Lucian. If you hadn’t shown up on the ski hill, I would have found my way down. If you hadn’t shown up on the street…”

  “Then what, Aria? You would have fought off a shifter?”

  “I sure as hell would have tried.”

  “Well, I couldn’t let you. Don’t you see? I need to look after you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I…”

  “Because you what? What, Lucian? Say it.”

  “I adore you. I don’t know how I can feel this way so fast about someone. I need you. And it scares the hell out of me, Aria.”

  Now the tears flowed freely. Joy and sadness mingled in her heart; in the knowledge that she would probably leave and never see him again. That he seemed to want to expel her from his life in spite of all of it.

  Lucian seemed to understand. He took her in his arms and pulled her gently to his chest. Aria remained quiet, letting only a few tears land on his coat before pulling away. They began to walk again and soon the lights of the main street were visible.

  “I would stay here for you, you know,” she said after a silence.

  “I know you would. But you can’t. You shouldn’t.”

  “Lucian, I’m supposed to fly out on Christmas Day, back to California. If you decide that you want me to stay, you find me at the inn and tell me. The ball is in your court.”

  Lucian remained quiet and Aria avoided looking at him for fear that doing so would make her cry again.

  When they reached the front door of the inn, Lucian stopped.

  “Well, here we are,” he said. He studied her face, which was hard to take. It was as though he was looking for the wounds he’d inflicted in spite of his insistence that he could never hurt her.

  “Here we are,” she replied.

  “You inspire me, Aria.” Lucian’s eyes looked deep into her own, which were more moist than she would have liked. “You make me want to be better in every single way. For that alone you mean the world to me. But you need to return to your home and your family, and forget the broken man you’re leaving here.”

  Aria opened her mouth to protest and shut it again. Finally she said simply, “Good night, Lucian,” and turned away, walking into the building and letting the door shut behind her.

  “Good night, sweet thing.”

  * * *

  The night was difficult. Aria told herself again and again that Lucian had done the right thing, but failed repeatedly to convince herself that all was for the best. How could it be?

  Smile.

  She couldn’t be with a reclusive shifter. Even if she liked him. Even if she loved him. Even if he was the kindest, best man in the world.

  Sleep never really came; instead an internal debate raged and she wondered if it would ever end, if she’d ever be able to walk away and forget this place and the shifter. Somehow, regardless of how heartless her ex had been, she’d managed to push him out of her mind with relative ease. But Lucian was different. It was his goodness and his assortment of flaws that made her gravitate towards him. She was no damsel in distress. She was strong, and wanted to rescue him.

  The next day she remained in her room, calling down for breakfast to be delivered. Around one p.m. the thought hit that she was being pathetic, waiting to see if he’d call or show.

  “No,” she said out loud, resolute in the afternoon light. “I have to learn to live without him. I did it for twenty–four years. May as well start again now.”

  Finally she rose to pack up her things for the flight which was to depart the following afternoon. She’d spend today exploring the town, doing some last–minute shopping.

  Her heart wasn’t in it as she wandered, and as late afternoon hit she found herself back at the coffee shop, leaning against the counter, where she saw the same young woman as she had on her previous visit.

  “Did you go to the carnival?” the barrista asked, her voice eager.

  “I did, yeah.”

  “Oh, good. I hope it was fun. And Lucian? You were asking about him. I’m glad to see you’re alive, if you actually ventured up to his place.”

  “Oh, I’m alive, at least on the outside.”

  The woman seemed to sense that she should shut up at that point and she handed Aria her hot chocolate before adding, “Hey, listen. Shifters are difficult. I should know. I’m one of them. But you know, when they fall they fall hard, in a way that people don’t always understand. And sometimes they don’t understand it themselves. Anyhow, good luck to you, whatever happens.”

  Aria walked away and sat at a counter by the window. If it was possible for a shifter to fall harder than she had, she pitied them. There was nothing as joyous and nothing as painful as love.

  After the hot chocolate had found its way into her empty stomach, she left to return to the inn. She knew perfectly well why she was doing so: to see if there was news of a certain polar bear. Nothing, it seemed, could be accomplished while she didn’t know if he’d been in touch. If he was thinking of her. If he cared just a little.

  But when she reached the front desk, there were no messages. It seemed that in this one regard, Lucian remained the essence of discipline. Infuriating, crazy–making discipline.

  “Strong, solitary, independent woman who doesn’t need a man.” Aria reminded herself of this as she threw herself onto her bed.

  It seemed that the previous night’s lack of sleep caught up with her then. When she awoke it was five a.m. She had several hours before she was to take the shuttle to the airport.

  That was enough time.

  * * *

  She lay on the bed until the sky began to glow pink; the first traces of dawn. And with the rising sun illuminating the day, she threw on her clothes, wrapped herself in her coat and scarf and left the inn. She knew the way now, and wit
hin an hour she was approaching the glacier. Though she’d told him that the ball was in his court, she told herself, she’d simply lied. She had a say in this, didn’t she? How could she return home without at least saying good–bye? At the very least, it would be impolite.

  More internal arguments raged as she stepped out of the woods and beheld the glacier before her. She hiked towards the house at the base, determined that she was doing the right thing.

  At first she couldn’t see it; shadows cast from the low sun over the mountains seemed to conceal its whereabouts. But as she approached she realized that it wasn’t a trick of the sun at all.

  The house was gone.

  Aria found herself running now, hard, slick ice under her feet. What was going on?

  The house was just a pile of frozen rubble. Its remnants were unidentifiable, except to her discerning eye; she recognized chunks of the thick ice that had served as walls, scattered about like gravel. But it was as though someone with a jackhammer had had a field day with it, or perhaps an angry polar bear. So Lucian had left. But where had he gone?

  Aria looked around for traces of him; anything. But there were no footprints; fresh snow covered any trail that he might have taken.

  “So he wanted to be free of me so badly that he did this,” she thought, wretchedness overtaking her.

  The hike downhill constituted a thousand wipes of her face with damp wool mittens. Now, at least, she knew. She could have closure. He didn’t want her and never had.

  She collected herself before arriving at the inn. In an hour or so the shuttle would come pick her up and she would head home. In her mind this place had been a dream, and she would attempt to satisfy herself with that. It was the only way to leave it behind.

  The shuttle ride and even the flight were blurs; Aria spent the entire time avoiding eye contact with strangers and wishing that she could speed up time.

  When at last she touched down in California she grabbed the first taxi she saw. The sky was clear, the weather warm. At least that was something. But now she was looking at Christmas with her family, having lost two men in the space of weeks.