by Dani René
His yelp of pain echoes across the mountainside. Let that be a warning to the other wolfskins of what will happen to them if they come near me or mine.
As I break through the trees and see my cabin in the distance, a smell reaches my nose. A fetid stench that I recognize as belonging to the wolfskin packs’ leader. I let out a bellowing roar. He dared come this close to my den again. If he’s laid one whisker on Carys, a million deaths won’t be enough for him.
I nose through the snow, trying to pick up his scent. I find it, along with another. Carys’.
“Looking for someone, bearskin? If you ask nicely, I’ll tell—”
A wolfskin in human form has appeared in my path. He doesn’t get a chance to finish what he’s saying. I lunge at him, headfirst, chin tucked, and smash my skull into his chest. The last thing he hears is his own bones shattering, and the last thing he sees are my angry yellow eyes as the light dies from his. Blood dribbles down his chin as he crumples onto the snow.
I’m not fucking asking nicely. Snarling, I turn and run my gaze over the mountainside, searching for clues, before heading off at run.
As I near the cabin, I see the wolfskin leader stacking sticks and other tinder against the wall of my cabin, a torch in his hand. He turns to face me, and irritation and fear flicker across his narrow features.
He grips the torch tighter in his hand and sneers, “You’re too slow-witted to understand that the pack was always going to win. I was always going to win.”
He speaks confidently, but his one good eye shows a twinge of regret as he sees his packmates haven’t managed to injure me.
I roar and leap at him, letting the change tear through me so fast that the pain is blinding. It’s nothing compared to what I’m going to inflict on this wolfskin. He jumps aside and my paws hit the front door. Faster than I’ve ever moved before, I pivot off the wood and dive at the changing wolf. He yelps in pain as we hit the snow, and he scrambles to get out from beneath me. He gets away, but tears eight long gouges in his flank as I refuse to let go.
The wolfskin twists around to face me, blood spraying through the air. The smell of his blood is a taunt, and the world turns red.
He darts at me, teeth snapping with fury. But he’s a lone wolf and I’m a bear prepared to fight to the bitter end. His pack is in tatters. It’s just him and me left. The wolfskin slips on the frozen ground, and I see my chance. I rear up and slam down on top of him. Rips crack beneath my paws, and he howls in pain.
The wolfskin shudders back into his human form, panic stark on his face. “If you kill me, you’ll never find her.”
I change back halfway, allowing my human mouth to form but keeping my claws. “You really think you or anything on this earth can keep me from my mate?” I pull back my arm and stab the wolfskin through the throat. And twist.
Blood gouts up and bubbles onto the snow. A moment later, the wolfskin is dead.
Slowly, I get to my feet and shake the blood from my claws. The forest is dark and silent around me. My nose is too filled with gore and the pack leader’s stench to pick up Carys” scent. It’s still snowing, and I walk through the drifts, my nose lifted into the wind.
Every now and then I catch a tantalizing hint of Carys, but then she’s gone again. Some other wolfskin might have taken this opportunity to snatch her away from the one-eyed pack leader. I’ll track down every last one of them and kill them all if I have to.
I search all day, crisscrossing the mountain slope and stumbling through drifts and over boulders. The ground grows rocky just after dusk, and in my exhaustion, I trip and fall heavily. My nose is buried in the snow, and it’s suddenly filled with her scent. On a sudden gust of wind, I hear the wretched cry of a baby in distress. I push myself up again, my heart beating wildly. She came this way, and she’s nearby. My footsteps stir up more of her scent. and I make my way across the rocks toward a dark scar in the mountain.
I pause by the opening in the rocks, sniffing the air. She touched this rock sometime earlier. Heart racing, I plunge through the opening and down a dark tunnel.
And see her.
She’s huddled on the floor, arms bound behind her back, in a wretched state. Carys looks up at me, fear dancing in her eyes at the half-human, half-animal looming over her. She gives a sob of relief as she realizes it’s me. I fall to my knees before her and pull her into my arms.
“Carys,” is all I can say, over and over, holding her against me as she sobs.
Finley is laying on a rush mat, placed cruelly just out of her reach. I scoop the baby up and tuck him against my chest, warming him while I work on Carys” bindings. She’s been chained up and the links have dug into her flesh as she’s tried hopelessly to reach her baby. The chains are slippery with her blood. I grasp them, rend them in two, and they break with a snap. My mate brings her arms up around my neck and I feel how cold she is. I pull her into my lap, warming her with my body while she takes Finley to her breast and feeds the hungry baby.
With my arms wrapped around them both, I vow to never let them out of my sight again. “Kochanie, I thought I’d lost you.” I rest my brow against her temple, gratitude rushing through me.
“I thought I’d lost you, too. We only just found each other,” she says through her tears. “I couldn’t bear it. Where are the wolfskins?”
“They’re all dead.” They thought they could outwit one bear, but as much as they liked to imagine that bearskins are lumbering, stupid creatures, they underestimated me, ambushing me in stages to slow me down. If they’d all gone for my throat at once, I wouldn’t be sitting here with my mate.
She sags against me, tears of relief sliding down her cheeks. “Let’s go home, Balen. I can’t wait to go home.”
I stand up, lifting them both in my arms and settling them against my heart.
“Home,” I agree, kissing her temple. I can’t think of anywhere else I long to be.
Chapter Nine
Carys
Finley and I sleep and sleep. Every time I wake to feed the baby, Balen insists he’s fine, his smile full of peace and happiness as he tucks the blankets around us. He’s keeping watch, standing sentinel outside in the snow while Finely and I rest, in case any stragglers come to attack us.
On the afternoon of the second day, I get up and stretch. My arms and wrists still ache from being tied up, but that will fade. Finley is sleeping in his cradle, safe and happy. I pick up a fur from the bed, wrap it around myself and head outside.
Balen is a short distance from the cabin by the wood pile. He swings the axe in a smooth arc, and a log splits in two and goes tumbling to the ground. My mate looks up, and his handsome face brightens as he sees me coming toward him.
“Kochanie, you should be resting.”
“I’m rested,” I say, smiling, and tilt my mouth up to his for a kiss.
Balen puts the axe to one side and draws me into his arms. His kiss grows heated as his hand slips beneath the fur to find that I’m dressed only in my slip.
“You’ll get cold,” he says in a soft growl, palming my breasts. His hand slides down to rub against my slit through the thin fabric.
I’m in no danger of getting cold when he’s touching me like that. “With your arms around me, my big bear?”
I feel him smile against my mouth, his kisses playfully nipping at me. “Careful, sweet one. With the smells of the forest and the feel of your body, my instincts are telling me to take you right here in the snow.”
I let the fur fall to the ground. He catches it and spreads it out. Then he spreads me out, too. My nipples bud in the freezing air as he dips his massive head to lick my sex. I’m so sensitize and needy that I cry out at the first swipe of his tongue.
His groan of appreciation becomes a growl as he flips me over and sheaths himself inside me. Claws dig into my waist. Fur prickles against the backs of my thighs. I look over my shoulder to see that my mate’s canine teeth are long and thick and his nose has turned black. The deep brown eyes are dark and flashing.
My huge beast is holding me against him while his shaft is working in and out of me.
I push up off my hands and rest my back to his chest. “Make me come, my big bear.”
His clawed hands cup my breasts as his thickening shaft thrusts deeper. His hot growls are in my ear as he tests my neck with his powerful jaws. Balen grows impossibly big inside me, and I come with a long, keening wail. The muscular arms around me tighten as he forces his length deeper, making my orgasm go on and on, rippling against his swollen cock.
I feel him spurt inside me and he gathers me close, his harsh breath steaming the air. Finally, he releases me and withdraws carefully.
“I’m going to feel that tomorrow,” I gasp as I sink onto the fur. Balen turns me over to face him. He’s still half-changed and there are pads on his palms. I love the sight of him, huge and scary and blocking out the light with his enormous bulk.
I arch my back and stretch luxuriously beneath him as his hungry eyes scour my body.
“Is it too much?” he asks in a growl, the words forming with difficulty on his tongue. His huge length bobs above my stomach, wet from my pussy and shiny with his seed. I wrap my hand around his girth, and my thumb and forefinger can’t meet.
“You’re just right,” I say, smiling up at him.
He nuzzles me, the bridge of his nose fuzzy. “My perfect mate.”
“Do you wish I could change too?” I ask.
“No. I like you small and smooth as I swell within you, protect you, carry you.” His tongue curls behind my ear. “And love you. Let’s go back in before you get cold.”
He picks me up, fur and all, carries me back inside the cabin and lays me on the bed.
“Come the spring, I’ll take you and Finley all over my territory. It stretches for miles in every direction, and we’ll gather honey and salmon to eat.”
I sit up and picture riding on his back with my little boy, the whole mountainside turned vivid green with the changing season. I’m excited for the future for the first time in my life, and if what Balen’s told me is right, we’ll have decades, not only with each other, but with our children, too. I pick Finley up and hold him to my breast, watching his sweet face as he feeds.
“We’re going to be here for you for a long, long time, sweet baby,” I whisper to him. If I’d never met Balen, I’d have died while Finley had only lived a tiny portion of his life. I stroke the wisps of darkening hair on his head, thinking. I look up at Balen who’s just finished adding logs to the stove. “Will Finley be all right? Without his own kind, I mean?”
“We are his kind,” Balen says, crouching down before us, still a head higher than my eye level. “But if you mean without wolfskins, perhaps he’s better off this way, if all the ones around these parts are nasty mutts.”
How sad for Finley if he never meets another wolfskin he could be friends with.
Balen seems to mistake my sadness for regret, and he takes my waist in his enormous palms. “I’m sorry you crossed paths with that pack. If I’d only known where you were—what you were—”
I shake my head before he can get worked up. “If I hadn’t encountered that wolfskin, then I wouldn’t have Finley, and I wouldn’t have you, either. I would never have been driven out by the villagers or chased by the pack. You wouldn’t have found me in the snow and carried me into your cabin. I’m grateful for everything that’s happened because it led me to you.”
He smiles, and his face is warmed, as if by sunshine. Still with Finley close to my breasts, I lean forward and kiss my mate. “I would endure ten times the hardship, as long as I knew you were waiting for me at the end.”
“Oh, kochanie. So would I,” he breathes.
In the morning, Balen finds me standing in the open doorway, my arms wrapped around my midsection and staring blindly at the snow. I came out here for something, but now I can’t remember what.
“Anything wrong, kochanie?”
Wrong? Nothing wrong, just…different. Strange. I keep trying to put my finger on it and my hands keep being drawn to my belly. I moisten my lips and hesitate to answer. “Not wrong, but I do wonder if you”ll think I’m crazy.”
His brows lift, and he draws me into his embrace. “My mate is the cleverest, most resourceful woman I’ve ever met. I’m sure it’s not crazy, whatever you’re thinking.”
“I have the strangest feeling that I’m pregnant.” I glance quickly up at him and see shock on his face. “See? I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I barely believe me, but I feel so certain at the same time that I’m right.” I place my hands over my belly and feel it again. The throb of life growing. It’s faint, but I sense it just the same. Balen’s baby, conceived yesterday in the snow.
How do I know that? Or do I just think I do?
Colors seem brighter today. Scents stronger. A rabbit ran across the front step of the cabin before dawn, and I know somehow. When I looked into Finley’s eyes this morning, I was sure I could glimpse the wolf he will someday be able to shift into.
Balen nuzzles my throat and squeezes me tightly. “Carys. My Carys. Of course I believe you. Your skinbearer blood is telling you things that your human-half never could.”
I look up at him in surprise. He did say that carrying his child and pledging my heart to him would change me. “I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. Will I really live as long as you? You won’t leave me behind, will you? You’ve already lived over a hundred years.”
He shakes his head, smiling. “We’ll extend each other’s lives. That’s how strong the bond is. It’s a beautiful thing, that bond, once it’s been formed.”
I relax into his embrace, relieved that I won’t lose him long before it’s my time. “It was nearly impossible for us to find each other. You waited so long. But will it always be dangerous for us? Will skinchangers always come to try and take me away?”
“We’re bonded now. There might be a wandering bearskin who might challenge me for my mate and territory, but if one comes, I’ll see him off.”
“I still worry at the thought of you fighting a bear.”
He nuzzles my neck and laughs. “I fought a whole wolfpack for you. I could take a lone bear before breakfast.”
“I hope you don’t have to. All that blood and gore, and you don’t even eat meat.” Everything I’ve eaten at the cabin has been vegetables or grain, though he did mention salmon. I hope he’s a good fisherman, because I love salmon.
“A few plants and a little bit of honey, that’s all I need. Did you know that’s what kochanie means? My honey. Something sweet to soothe a grumpy bear.”
I relax back against his broad chest and smile up at him. If I’m his sweetness, then Balen’s my strength and my home. Behind us, Finley sleeps peacefully, and he’ll soon have a brother or sister cub to play with.
“Part of me has always been waiting for part of you,” I whisper, reaching up to stroke his bristly cheek. “Now, those two halves have met, and we’ll never be parted again.”
He plants a soft kiss on my mouth and places both his hands on my belly. Within me, new life throbs. “Never. I love you, kochanie.”
“I love you, my big bear.”
Epilogue
Balen
Carys hurries in to the cabin with Sienna in her arms, and Finley’s little hand clutched in hers, her face chalk white. She slams the door behind her and leans her back against it.
I look up from the cot I’m hammering together for our daughter. She’s one and a half and has fast outgrown her cradle. “Kochanie? What’s wrong?”
Tendrils of blonde hair have escaped Carys” plait and are stuck to her lips. “Wolves,” she says, in a terrified whisper.
I take one long step toward the window and glance out. “Skinchangers?”
She nods. “Bigger than normal wolves, and they weren’t looking at me like an animal should. Too clever. Too curious. What are we going to do?”
I can’t see anything out there, but I believe my wife.
Carys sits down on a chair with
Sienna in her arms and pulls Finley close against her legs. He gazes up at me, his eyes solemn.
“Papa? Is there danger?”
I move toward the door. “No danger, moj skarbie. Stay here and protect your mother, yes?”
“Balen, you shouldn’t,” Carys whispers frantically. “Leave them be. Maybe they’ll just move on.”
I open the door and step out into the late summer air. Maybe they will, but I want to see that they do.
There’s no one near the cabin that I can see or scent. The vegetable garden is growing nicely, and the raspberry canes that Finley and I planted—or I planted while he played in the soil—are heavy with fruit. I move a little way down the path toward the wood pile.
And catch a sharp, unwelcome scent on the breeze. Wolfskins. Not many, but even one who isn’t Finley is one too many.
I don’t have to go far before I see them. Two adults, and two cubs. A family. My fingers ache from the pressure of claws that want to burst forth, but I stand still and watch them as they move among the trees.
They come toward me and shift into their human form. It’s a man and a woman, and they smile at me. The pups stay pups, their paws and ears too big for their bodies and their fur tufted. They seem tired, but play with each other and sniff the wildflowers.
“Hello,” calls the man, still smiling. “We thought we could smell a bearskin and we wanted to introduce ourselves. We live down in the valley.”
“Then you should have stayed in the valley.” Behind me, I hear Carys” footsteps as she comes out of the cabin to listen.
The wolfskins gaze at us, their smiles dimming. Finally, they back away.
“You folks don’t like folks. That’s fair. We’ll leave.” The man turns to take his mate’s hand, and they move away, shooing the pups ahead of them.
