Defending the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 2)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  Whatever they were, the wolves were on all fours and running full-tilt in my direction. The average wolf can run up to thirty-five miles an hour for short stretches. Even the best trained human athletes could only run twenty-eight miles an hour. If I didn’t shift, they’d be on top of me within minutes.

  Struggling not to break stride, I let the change take me. The phantom sensation of fur that had been brushing against my skin became a reality. My human body twisted and writhed weirdly as my bones shifted and rearranged themselves. I landed on all fours and began to lope forward.

  For five blissful minutes, I knew what it was like to have total unity with my bear. We shared a purpose. Survive. That was all that mattered. Get out of the mountains and live to see another day.

  The scent of wolf was stronger in my bear form, and I shared its ire. What were they doing here? I was minding my own damn business. I wasn’t going on the crusade to defeat the Aesir the same way that Chance and Lucy were. I hadn’t tried to defeat any evil in the last year. Evil just seemed to find me, regardless of what I wanted.

  The wolves could run me down. I’d slow eventually. Soon, I’d have no choice but to turn and fight. I didn’t like my chances if I let the bear’s fury override my reason. If they were Ulfhednar, they’d have centuries, if not millennia, of experience on me.

  Suddenly, and for no reason I could identify, the bear was tugging at my control. It was taking us in completely the wrong direction, toward the trail and the campsites set up for hikers on the Appalachian Trail. I didn’t need to drag my dangerous pursuers toward helpless, human campers. There was no telling how many people I could get killed if I went that direction. But the bear kept tugging at me, undermining my tenuous control. It was slowing us down.

  What the hell do you want? I snarled at it. The wolves were even closer. I could hear them.

  I veered off my chosen course. I’d give the campsites a wide berth and pray to God there was no one on the trail. Again, my mind cleared when I finally agreed with my bear. I wondered if my difficulties stemmed from a refusal to give my bear what it wanted.

  But, then I remembered that it had wanted to kill Keith Page, and my resolve returned. It was a monster, plain and simple. Just because we agreed in this one instance didn’t mean it was right all the time.

  In my exploration, I’d purposely avoided the campgrounds. There was too much temptation for human and bear. For the human in me, it was the lure of normalcy. If I spent a few days camping with a pretty girl or a friendly group of guys, I might be able to convince myself that I wasn’t the monster I was. And then I’d hurt someone. Maybe a lot of someones.

  I hadn’t wanted to mark the area with my scent, either. If, in some hideous twist of fate, I managed to get loose during the full moon, I didn’t need to give my bear more reasons to go on a killing spree. If it perceived a couple of innocent campers as encroaching on its territory, there would be blood.

  New scents assailed me as I entered the more frequently traveled areas of the Blue Ridge Mountain range. There was smoke, from a nearby campfire most likely. Someone had overcooked their meal. Hot dogs, maybe? It was some kind of pork. Normally that would have made my stomach rumble. I’d been living on dehydrated foods and non-perishables for so long.

  But the most distracting of the new scents was coming from the human huddled in a tent a hundred yards away. I wanted to berate the human. Why had they settled here, of all places? The terrain wasn’t forgiving, and it was a fair distance from the trail.

  Her scent was pear and cinnamon. It balanced on a knife’s edge between sweet and spicy. I caught another, stronger whiff of it as I skidded into her campsite. The tent, barely big enough for one, stirred, and the female inside unzipped the tent flap.

  Stay inside, for the love of God, I thought desperately. Maybe if the wolves following me thought she’d slept through the whole thing, they’d leave her be.

  But, it was too late. A woman was emerging from the tent. She didn’t look that much taller than Lucy, but that was where her similarities to my sister ended. Lucy’s hair, like mine, was so blonde it practically glowed gold in sunlight. The approaching sunset painted shadows onto the woman’s wavy, auburn hair, making it appear almost burgundy.

  Her huge, hazel eyes grew even wider as she took in the enormous black bear that had skidded into her campground.

  She was beautiful, no doubt about that. Even in her grass-stained blue jeans and overlarge, flannel shirt. But that wasn’t what stopped me.

  Just that morning I’d been bitching about being alone, skeptical that I’d ever find what Chance had found in Lucy. He hadn’t been pulling my leg. The moment our eyes met, I knew. My mind reeled. How had I lived in a world where she hadn’t existed? My bear, for once, was entirely silent as we both reveled in the fact that we’d found her.

  The nearby howl of a wolf snapped me from the euphoric haze. I could see the world beyond my golden glow of happiness. The woman was backing away, practically tripping over the tent to get away from me. The sweet scent of cinnamon and pear soured when paired with the scent of her fear.

  An answering thrill shot through me, and I was on my feet again. I’d been still for far too long. If I stayed still, they’d be able to shoot me, and probably her as well. I froze for another too-long moment. What did I do? If she fled, she could be running directly into the jaws of wolves. But if I left, what would they do to her? I couldn’t imagine they’d leave her unscathed.

  I charged toward her. She let out an ear-splitting shriek and tried to run. She had no prayer of outrunning me. The short distance was not enough for the average human to outpace a bear. I got a mouthful of her overlarge shirt and used all the power I could muster to throw her into the air. She flew a few feet off the ground, and I repositioned myself quickly.

  She landed with a thump on my back. I took off into the woods again before she could scramble off. The wolves were nearer. We had to escape.

  She was screaming. I wished I could speak, so I could calm her down. I didn’t want her to be frightened. I wished I could assume human form, pull her into my arms and assure her that everything would be fine. But, even if that wasn’t a horrible idea in the current circumstance, she wouldn’t react well to my human form, either.

  It was difficult enough for my sister to accept what she had with Chance even in the relatively sane confines of hotel rooms and Chance’s really nice car. I tried to picture what that would be like for the unnamed woman clinging to my back. It would look like a fever dream to her. A large, menacing bear had skidded into her campsite, stared at her like she was lunch, and then charged her. Then the bear turned into a naked man who claimed he was her soulmate. Yeah, that was sure to go over well.

  Something pierced my flank. It felt like a particularly bad bee sting. But worse than the prick of pain was a sudden weakness in my limbs. The bear’s roar of frustration was a thunderous sound that echoed in my head.

  Not fast enough.

  The surrounding forest seemed to stream together like so much green paint. My legs buckled, and I fell. I was conscious of another high-pitched scream, and the woman attempting to scramble off of me. My last, despairing thought was that I hadn’t even learned her name.

  Then, the blackness rose up to claim me.

  Chapter 2

  Audrey

  Breathe. I instructed myself. Just breathe. You’re not in the cellar again.

  Though it was objectively true, it was hard to convince even my most rational side that we weren’t back in that horrible place. Wherever we’d been stuffed, it smelled almost exactly like the tiny, dank crawlspace I’d grown to hate.

  The faint smell of sawdust told me that whatever held us had been recently constructed. The air was cold, and the only light we had originated from the solar-powered lantern that some jerkoff had seen fit to steal from my campsite.

  My hands were going numb, and I knew it wasn’t from the temperature. I’d had too many panic attacks not
to be aware that my body was giving me advance warning. If I didn’t calm down soon, I’d pass out again.

  In one…two…three…four…five.

  I exhaled shakily and repeated the cycle for a few minutes, trying not to think about anything. There was no one shouting at me. There was no pain. There was only the near-total darkness and the cold.

  Well, that wasn’t true either. There was also a gigantic black bear in the corner. At first, I thought that they’d left its carcass as a sort of bizarre present. Then it had snored, and I had been struck with an even more horrifying notion. What if they intended for it to eat me? Maybe I’d entered into some sick scenario of the sort you’d see in one of those crime shows. What if this whole setup was a sadistic, serial-killer’s wet dream?

  My breathing picked up again, and I buried my face in my hands. This couldn’t be happening. I’d suffered enough. I refused to believe that my life was going to end so trivially. I wasn’t going to die here, no matter what happened. I began counting again, screwing my eyes shut. I had to calm down. Then I could think up a plan.

  It took me longer than I would have liked to slow my breathing to a somewhat normal tempo. What did I know about surviving bear attacks? I’d done some research prior to my trip into the Blue Ridge Mountains. I knew substantiating the tale I’d been told would involve risk.

  The first thing that came to mind was the pepper spray that my best friend and roommate, Sabina, had given me. The research I’d done said that was the go-to defense for a bear attack. Maybe if I’d thought that when I’d first spotted it in the campsite I wouldn’t be in this mess. In any case, that was out. The asshole that had stolen my lantern hadn’t bothered to give me pepper spray. Typical.

  I wasn’t supposed to run or climb. A bear could outdistance me and climb as well as I could. That wasn’t a problem, it seemed. There was nothing to climb, and I couldn’t see well enough to run. So that only left making noise and fighting. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be fighting with because there was absolutely nothing around me except dying grass and dirt. And of course, the bear.

  It stirred, and I let out a breathless, little shriek of fear before I could stop myself. I snatched the lantern. It was the only thing with enough weight to do any damage. My fists sure as hell weren’t going to do the job against a four-hundred pound bear.

  The light swung wildly, casting eerie shadows on the huddled mass of fur. Then, as it settled and I could see the animal more closely, I noticed something odd.

  Its body was moving, even though it didn’t seem to have woken up. My heart leapt into my throat. What the hell was going on? Was there something inside it? Was it going to jump out and eat my face Alien-style?

  There was a horrible sound, like broken bones grating against each other, and the bear’s hind legs lengthened. At the same time, its front legs rearranged themselves with a sick slurping sound. The fur receded, leaving only pale, unmarked skin behind it.

  Before my eyes, the bear became a man. Not a man, I corrected myself. A were-bear. I’d never met one personally, but I’d heard a lot about it at home. My mom and stepdad had staunchly opposed the recognition of shapeshifters as citizens under United States law. So, of course, I’d joined a pro-shifter organization on campus the moment I’d moved out of my parent’s house.

  At first I’d been astonished by the overlap in the shifter community. Werewolves were not a homogeneous group. Many different cultures shared animal myths. It was ignorance that caused people to paint all shifters with the same brush. Hollywood had a hand in that too, but there was also the fact that most people didn’t know their mythology very well.

  A Native American werewolf was vastly different from the werewolves from Rome. The Roman werewolf was different than the Norse werewolf, and so on and so forth. It became even more complicated when you wandered outside of the western world. And that was just the werewolves. Were-bear myths showed up on almost every continent where the animal existed.

  So, oddly enough, the revelation that my fellow captive was a shapeshifter actually served to calm my nerves. That was something I could understand.

  The threat of a lethal bear attack seemed to have passed, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t dangerous. My more progressive leanings screamed at me that I was profiling. He wasn’t violent because he was a were-creature. But my experience had taught me the worst monsters didn’t turn into an animal at the full moon. Some monsters were born from a bottle or a needle, from frustration and disappointment, or simply a continuing cycle of abuse.

  So I crept closer, keeping myself at arm’s length. I knelt a few feet away and held the light over his prone form, trying to get a better look at my companion.

  He was naked. That shouldn’t have surprised me. He’d probably started the transition naked, and even if he hadn’t, any clothing he had been wearing would have been shredded as he grew.

  What surprised me was my reaction to his nudity. My entire body warmed a few degrees, and an electric shock of desire shot straight to my core. Being trapped with a huge, naked man should have been frightening. My reaction was confusing as hell. Well, maybe not that confusing. He was undeniably attractive. Why such a visceral reaction though? He wasn’t my type at all.

  Even in high school I’d avoided big guys. I liked the long, taut body of a soccer player or the slim build of a distinguished geek. The football players tended to scare me. Their bulk was a threat, their practiced fists and feet were weapons to be used against me.

  The were-bear looked like two or three-hundred pounds of solid muscle. He had broad shoulders and a wide frame, every inch of it tight, corded muscle. And that was only his body at rest. I didn’t want to imagine how ripped he looked when he was conscious and moving around.

  I swung the light around, intending to get back on my haunches to get a better look at his face. The light illuminated something I hadn’t intended to peek at, but once I had, I couldn’t look away. My mouth went a little dry, and another pang of want shot through me.

  His cock was only at half-mast, lying against his thigh. I could already tell he was big. When he was raring to go, he’d probably be huge. I had the insane urge to touch him, to roll him around in my hand until he was hard. What would he taste like, I wondered, if I put my mouth on him?

  He’s asleep and can’t consent. That’s assault, you dumbass. My rational side interjected, appalled at my line of thought. Besides, you don’t even know his name!

  It wasn’t that I was against one-night stands or casual sex on principle. But, at the very least, I knew something about that person before I put their dick in my mouth. This wasn’t the time or the place for that sort of nonsense.

  So, I finally managed to tear my gaze away from his junk and back to my original target, his face. I set the lantern on the ground a few feet from his head, so the light wouldn’t immediately shine into his eyes and rouse him.

  I could see his profile in the diffused light, and my jaw nearly dropped. Who was this man? I hadn’t thought that there was a face to match the glory of his body, the perfection of his dick. I’d been wrong.

  His hair was the color of burnished gold in the low light. It was long, brushing his shoulders. It had a slight wave to it, and looked like it might turn into curl if his hair got wet. He had high cheekbones and a strong jaw. I had a suspicion that he’d have a killer smile.

  His eyes fluttered for a minute, and his perfect mouth turned down into a grimace. Then, his eyes opened. I had only a moment to process that they were a striking blue before he was on his feet, back rigid, and his breath coming fast.

  He’s scared. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me so much. Of course, he was scared. We didn’t know where we were. It seemed silly to be frightened of him when we had no idea who or what had put us in this place. He was just as much a victim as I was.

  His eyes wheeled, searching the darkness for threats. Finally, his gaze found me. The moment they did he seemed to focus. His breathing eve
ned and tension eased out of his shoulders. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. Was it that I wasn’t what he’d expected? Or was it that he’d completely dismissed me as a threat when he could see that I was a woman?

  “You’re okay,” he breathed. A goofy half-smile curled the edge of his lips, and my anxiety level dropped by yet another peg. Serial killers didn’t give you the eager, puppy grin when they spotted you. If I hadn’t known better, I might have thought he transformed into a golden retriever on the full moon. The shaggy, blonde hair certainly didn’t help with that impression.

  “Yeah, I am,” I said cautiously. “Are you?”

  He paused to consider that for a moment. He walked once in a circle, flexing and stretching various parts of his body.

  “I’m a little groggy,” he said. “But it could be worse. How long was I out?”

  “I don’t know. I just woke up ten minutes ago.”

  His mouth turned down into another grimace. I didn’t like it when he did that. It made him look angry. Big, angry men were a huge turn-off for me.

  “I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “This is my fault.”

  “How exactly is any of this your fault?” I muttered, pushing to my feet as well. I didn’t like him towering over me. He was probably harmless right now, but if I’d learned anything in my life, it was that it could change in an instant. A pleasant, happy room never stayed that way for long. I’d expect the worst, and be pleasantly surprised if life decided to give me something better, for once.

  “They were after me, not you. If I’d stayed away from the campsite…,” He trailed off, peering into the darkness. I wanted to tell him that it was pointless, and that there was nothing to see or feel. It was just a large circular room with no door that I could locate. But he was more than human. Maybe he could read more into the gloom than I could.