by Layla Nash
It took an eternity but he didn't care. His back and knees ached, and his chest ached, and a sharp pain stabbed through his temple. The blood loss and stress and receding adrenaline did a number on him, but all that paled in comparison to the satisfaction of caring for his mate.
He made sure to cover her fully when Ethan knocked, though Simon still cleaned blood from her feet. The other man eased through the door and leaned against the wall, watching him more than their patient. Simon didn't bother to look at him though the irritation turned his voice deep and grumbly. "You got a question, friend?"
"You broke the code. Turning her without permission."
Simon paused, then forced his hands to continue manipulating her left ankle, still swollen and discolored despite his blood coursing through her veins. He didn't dare look at Ethan lest the rage inside him burst free. He and Ethan had been through far too much, in far too many places, for such a simple statement to ruin it. "Watch yourself."
Ethan eased into the chair near the door, picking at some of the shredded fabric and disgorged stuffing. "Even if you'd been the best brain surgeon and cardiologist and trauma doc in the entire world, you couldn't have saved her. There weren't any airbags in that truck, man. The steering wheel got her in the face and chest. So don't question your choice to turn her. It sucks and she might hate you, but she's still alive because you did that."
Simon didn't cease his work even though her feet were clean. He picked up some ointment and worked it into the knots around her ankle, then bound it up with gauze and sticky wrap bandages. Bruises always took longer to disappear. "There's not a doubt in my mind about that."
"I didn't think there would be." Ethan rubbed his face and rested his head on the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. "You sleeping down here for a while, I take it?"
"Yeah." He hadn't really thought about it, but Simon damn well knew he would sleep in that infirmary until she was better. Until he could convince her to sleep in his room, in his bed, so he would know she was protected and safe. He shuffled to the head of the bed and moved the sheet enough so he could bandage an ugly abrasion on her shoulder without exposing the rest of her.
"Finn is pulling one of the cots out of the storeroom for you. I'll send in food for both of you, and you eat every damn bite, do you hear me? Cooper is going to distract the guests until they check out tomorrow, but we have six new ones checking in day after. We need to come up with a plan for that. In the meantime, keep her quiet and warm. If we need the restraints, tell me. She could really hurt herself if we're not careful."
Simon nodded, tucking the sheets in around her, and retrieved a soft blanket from the cupboard to spread across her. The steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor was the sweetest music in the world. He watched her face as she slept, the morphine dripping into her arm from an IV in the back of her hand, and remained close to her as they brought a cot and bedding for him, as Ethan sent in an enormous tray full of food, as his legs went numb and he sat down only because he would have fallen otherwise. Through it all, for every moment, the bear chanted Want want want in his head. He fell asleep in the cot, facing her, with the sound of it in his thoughts.
8
Zoe
Everything hurt. Zoe groaned as she forced her eyes open. A steady beeping filled her ears but nothing else made sense. The last thing she remembered was driving, trying to talk Tate into picking her up, and then a deer. Swerving. Pain and red flashes and pressure in her chest. Then nothing.
Her vision blurred and her eyes wouldn't focus. She was warm, at least, though it didn't help the deep ache in her bones and muscles. Zoe tried to move her legs and adjust how she lay in the bed, but cried out as sharp pain spiked in her side.
"What's wrong? What hurts?"
She froze as Simon, wild and wooly hair sticking out in all directions, appeared next to the bed. The beeping accelerated. Zoe stared at him, mouth full of cotton as she tried to come up with a response. He looked on the verge of panic, searching her face for a clue as he patted her arm and checked the IVs.
Zoe tried to force words out but her voice didn't work. She managed to whisper, "Water?"
"Water." Simon nodded, almost chanted the word as he moved around the dim room. He returned to her bedside and held a small cup to her lips, his hand cradling her cheek as he dribbled water on her lips. "There. Careful. Just a little."
She watched him as she swallowed, the water cold and crisp and tasting like it came straight from a mountain spring. Something had changed. Something felt very different, all of her senses sharper and more in-tune. Zoe closed her eyes and turned her face into his hand, wanting more contact. Comfort. Warmth. She wanted to curl up against his chest and sleep.
Simon made a sharp noise and then his other hand cupped her face, his thumbs stroking across her cheeks. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Are you hungry?"
Zoe wanted to laugh at him for the barrage of questions, but the desperation in his tone softened her heart. Poor Simon. He didn't sound so self-assured any more. She wondered what set him so off-balance. She took a deep breath and hoped her voice worked. It did, but sounded rusty and rough. "Where am I?"
"At the lodge." He exhaled in a gust, and eased to sit next to her hip on the wide hospital bed. He still held her face, still caressed her cheeks. His gaze warmed, sparked something deep in her chest. "We have an infirmary."
She moved uneasily. Infirmary. But it made sense, if she lay in a hospital bed with censors attached to her chest. Her naked chest. A flush heated her cheeks and Simon smiled. Zoe cleared her throat, studying his rugged features to distract herself from the delicious friction of his skin on hers. "What happened?"
His beard almost hid his frown, but she caught enough of it to know she wouldn't like his answer. Simon eased a little closer, his heat and solid bulk comforting rather than threatening. "You swerved to avoid a deer and ran off the road."
She laughed, but it came out all rusty. "That's impossible. If I ran off the road, I'd be dead."
"You almost were." He brushed her hair back, studying her hairline and tracing her features with the tips of his fingers. She felt like he tried to memorize her, to learn everything about her face. "Luckily Ethan is a medic, so he was able to keep you stable."
Zoe frowned and reached to touch the same path his hands traveled, then froze. Her glasses. She wasn't wearing her glasses. But she could see everything in the room with perfect clarity. Razor-sharp precision. Better than the best glasses. Her chest tightened and she tried to sit up. "What else did you do to me?"
Simon caught her shoulders, kept her from dragging the wires and tubes out, and he talked faster, low and calm but still with a hint of unease. "We didn't have any other choice, Zoe. You were dying. So I gave you a blood transfusion."
"What does that mean?" Other memories came back, a bit spottier — the bears, him turning into a grizzly, the video on her phone. She remembered reading the rumors online, that shapeshifters were actually real, but everyone knew it was just a hoax. Some crazy conspiracy shit that rational people wouldn't buy. Like UFOs and Bigfoot. But at least one website insisted that humans could be turned into shifters via blood or bites or weird magic shit. A blood transfusion might do it. Her heart leapt and sank at the same time, and the monitor next to her bed started going crazy.
Simon took a deep breath. "I'm a bear shifter. You saw it in the meadow, when I changed. My kind — our kind — heals faster, better. We can survive things that kill humans. I needed to save you, Zoe. It was the only way I could save you."
She stared at her feet, hidden by clean white sheets, and tried to understand. It felt like her software was buggy and just wouldn't compile. A glitch in the system. A loud noise in her ears distracted her as she struggled, torn between wanting to get the hell away from him and needing to turn to him for comfort. He looked so desperate, touching her face and shoulders and hands, that it took a while before she realized the noise came from him — a rumbly grumbly bear sound. A worried soun
d.
Her eyes prickled. "I'm going to turn into a bear?"
The worried sound got louder and he moved closer, leaning to wrap his arms around her so he could hold her tightly and nuzzle in her hair. He whispered, "Please don't cry. Please."
She stared past his shoulder, wanting to hide her face against his neck and sob.
Simon kissed her cheek and eased back enough to check her expression, stroking her hair back. "Eventually, yes, you should be able to turn into a bear. And turn back human. We'll help you with that. We'll help you with everything."
She wanted to be grateful that he saved her life, but the pain medication dripping into her veins made everything fuzzy and disoriented. And the idea of being part animal, being a bear, being less than human... As if she wasn't enough of a freak already, as if blending in and figuring out how the hell to talk to people weren't hard enough just as herself...
Her hands trembled as she covered her face and her breath came faster, catching in her chest, and tears burned her sinuses. Zoe couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel.
Simon made a strangled sound and pulled her close once more, rocking her back and forth as he rubbed her back. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it, I promise. I'll make it better."
He kept talking, soft nonsense that blurred into a soundtrack of reassurance, and some wild part of her stirred awake. Zoe didn't know what it was or what to call it, but something in her liked him. A lot. Wanted him closer. Wanted him forever and always.
But that wasn't a part of herself she'd ever met before. Which meant it had to be the bear, or she was going completely crazy. And he'd said 'we.' 'We'll help you.' So everyone was a bear. A house full of bears. The hysterical giggle built in her chest again but she knew if she started, she'd never stop.
The tears kept falling and Simon kept talking and rocking her, but eventually her eyelids drooped and whatever kept her awake faded away. Darkness crept over her, and Zoe slept with the sound of Simon's voice still in her ears.
9
Simon
When Zoe finally slept, Simon untangled himself from her and the wires and the sheets. He retreated to the door but watched her the entire time, holding his breath, to make sure she didn't wake and think she was alone. His chest hurt with the power of her confusion and pain and sadness. His bear wanted to stay, to sleep next to her, but Simon needed a moment to compose himself.
The clock in the kitchen said it was just past midnight. It felt like he'd slept forever and not at all. His muscles ached in weird places and a clawing hunger ignited in his stomach. Trying to regenerate all the blood he'd given her meant the bear needed to eat. He stood in front of the fridge, staring at the contents though all he saw was Zoe's face when he told her what he'd done.
Simon cursed under his breath and turned away from the fridge, then jumped as Ethan rose from the couch in front of the fireplace. Simon kept his voice low, in case the guests were still up. "What the hell are you doing out here?"
"Wanted to be close in case our patient woke up in trouble." Ethan yawned and rubbed sleep from his eyes. "How's she doing?"
"Confused." Simon braced his hands on the counter and stared at the floor. It hurt to admit. "Scared."
"Makes sense." Ethan shuffled to the fridge and got a couple of beers, handing one to Simon. "She just needs to rest and heal and figure things out. And you need to eat. Steak?"
He rubbed his shoulder and glanced back at the infirmary. "Nah. I'd rather go hunt. The bear needs to work through some things. Can you keep an eye on her? Get me if she wakes up again."
Ethan nodded and took back the beer. "Of course. Enjoy your run."
Simon poked his head into the infirmary just to make sure her chest rose and fell evenly and the beeping machine still worked, then stripped off his clothes and walked out the back door. His bear roared to the surface as soon as the chill night air hit him, and he lumbered down the sloping ground to the drive and the trees beyond. He moved through the dark, silent forest. He only felt truly free in bear form. His human senses felt dull and limited. Limiting. He could protect Zoe better in bear form, particularly if any of those humans hunting her managed to find their way to the lodge.
He grumbled and growled as he made his way to the river and splashed into the icy water. It wasn't the right time for salmon, but any fish would do. Anything warm and salty with life, wriggling in his claws, would dull the bear's hunger. It took longer than normal to tease a fish to where he could hook it, since his paws were unsteady and a little weak. He tore into the fish, then a second, then a third, and when his hunger finally retreated, he caught a few more to take back to the house for breakfast.
Maybe Zoe would want to eat some. From what he'd heard, newly-turned shifters were ravenous for the first couple of weeks as their metabolisms revved and adjusted to the increased requirements of shifter hearts and lungs and healing abilities. He liked her curves, didn't want her to lose them. She would need to eat a lot to maintain her figure until the shifter and human systems equilibrated.
He went back to the river for another couple of fish, then shifted back to human so he could carry the half dozen fish back to the house. The long walk gave him time to practice what he would say to her. Telling her she was his mate might be a bridge too far right away, when she still wasn't on board with being a shifter. Giving her time to adjust before springing the whole 'destined to be together' thing on her was only fair.
Simon inhaled deeply and let the crisp air clear his lungs. A narrow deer-track led up to the lodge from the river and he hesitated as the lighted windows came into view. Going back indoors after a shift always felt wrong. He scrunched bare toes in the dirt and took one last look around the dark wilderness around him, then headed for the lodge.
He shut the backdoor quietly behind himself and checked on Zoe before he carried the fish into the kitchen and pulled on the clothes he'd taken off before he left. Ethan dozed in a recliner facing the kitchen, and Simon fought back irritation that his friend hadn't kept a better watch on Zoe. She still slept, fine, but maybe she'd woken up alone and worried.
He dropped the fish on Ethan, who woke with a snort and a curse at the flopping, dripping trout covered him. Ethan lurched upright, nose wrinkled as he collected the fish, and staggered past Simon into the kitchen. "Thanks, a-hole. Fish tacos for breakfast, I'm guessing?"
Simon took a beer from the fridge and rubbed a kitchen towel over his damp hair. "Will Zoe be able to eat fish tacos?"
"Maybe." Ethan got out a cutting board and trash can to start gutting and scaling the fish. "Go sit with her. Rest is the best medicine for her right now, but I don't want her freaking out and trying to get out of bed."
He didn't need to be told twice, and drained his beer before lumbering back towards the infirmary. When he opened the door and slid inside, she stirred in the bed and her eyes shone in the light of the monitors and machines. "Simon?"
"I'm here." He went immediately to her side and sat on the bed, needing to touch her. She sounded afraid. "I'm here, Zoe. Are you okay?"
Her legs moved uneasily under the sheets and lines stacked across her forehead. "I'm cold."
He hesitated. She was naked under the sheets, after all, and confused. Maybe in pain and certainly drugged on morphine and whatever cocktail Ethan mixed in the IV bags. He needed to be careful. But she shivered and huddled under the sheet and blanket he'd spread over her. He turned on the space heater and touched her cheek. "Baby, it'll take a sec for the heater to kick in. I'll get you another blanket."
"Wait." Her face crumpled and her hand fumbled through the sheet to reach for him. "Don't leave. Don't leave again."
"Never," he breathed. Simon couldn't move, pressing her hand between his. He touched her hip through the sheet and knew he played with fire. "Slide over a bit and I'll lay here with you."
It took a moment for her to maneuver, wincing with the pain of sore muscles, but then there was enough space for him to ease onto the bed on his side. He left her covered in the shee
ts and pulled the soft blankets over them both. He pulled the wires off her and shut off the heart monitor so they wouldn't end up tangled. Simon held her to his chest, rubbing her back in slow circles, and kissed her forehead. "Tell me if you're cold or you want to move."
She mumbled something and her hand tightened on his t-shirt, but her eyes stayed closed. The wrinkles across her forehead faded as she relaxed, and something in Simon's chest eased as well. Until she frowned again and pulled the sheet up to cover her nose. "You smell like fish."
The laugh that bounced out of him jostled her, and she smiled just a touch. Simon sat up enough to take off his t-shirt and lay back down, snuggling her closer to his bare chest. She patted his side, palm soft and smooth, and sighed. Simon's bear finally eased up on the constant worry about losing her and settled down to sleep. He had their mate protected, he would feed her in the morning when she felt better, and he would keep her warm all night. Perfect.
Zoe yawned and wiggled to get closer, draping her arm over his side, and she blinked up at him. "Do I still have to wake up early?"
He couldn't help it; he laughed again, and again she smiled. Simon bent to kiss her forehead and tucked the blanket more securely around her. "I'll make an exception. Two near-death experiences in a row before noon leads me to believe you're too dangerous in the morning."
"Good." Her eyes drifted shut and she yawned again. "I knew you'd see reason."
"Just sleep." Simon rested his chin on the top of her head and adjusted the pillow for them both. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
