Bear Meets Bride: A Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (3 page)

“My god, it’s beautiful,” she said.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” Dylan said, his hands stuck in the back pockets of his pants, “I usually come down here every night. Puts me in a contemplative mood.”

She was quiet for a minute, taking it all in. When she spoke again, her voice was like a paddle moving gracefully through deep water, barely stirring a ripple. It was almost as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “I think I’ll like it here too,” she whispered, and turned toward him. Her eyes were doe-dark and wide, and he let himself match her gaze without looking away. “Why did you choose… me?” she asked, in the same quiet undertone.

The question caused his heart to beat faster. “Wha-what do you mean?” he stuttered, knowing full well.

“I know how the caste system works,” she said, never breaking eye-contact. “I’m only one of many. I don’t know how many, heh. But I know I didn’t come here retroactively. You chose me… for some reason. I guess I’m curious… why…”

He sighed. “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Let me reciprocate on our list of unofficial facts,” she said quite suddenly. “I’ve never… I mean, I’ve had guys interested in me before, but… let’s just say most guys, once they get to know me, look in the other direction. That prickliness I told you about?”

“You do seem guarded,” he admitted brazenly. But then, he’d gotten to know her at least well enough to know that brazen honesty was one of the few things she required of others.

“It’s more than that. I just… never was very good at making friends,” she said, and there was a touch of loneliness and regret in her voice, “and anything more than friends. I’ve always been alone. Which is fine, you can get used to that.”

“What, you’ve never had a boyfriend?” he asked. It wasn’t uncommon for shifters to engage in the kind of playful antics that youth was privy to, even if there was an understanding that one day they would need to find a permanent mate. But the idea that she had never participated in those sorts of harmless activities was surprising. She gave him a hurt expression, and he gulped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It’s okay,” she lied. “I don’t mind telling you… this whole rendezvous, marriage… it scares the hell out of me. That’s why I wanted to know… why… you chose me, of all people.”

Dylan stepped closer, his bare feet hissing on the cool sand. He desperately wanted to sound genuine. “I chose you ‘cause you were the last profile… at the end of the booklet,” he said, his voice grave and steady, almost solemn.

She gaped at him, held his stare a full three long seconds and then burst into laughter. “Hahaha! I was the last picture!?” she gripped her sides and hunched over, laughing even harder, as Dylan gazed on, confused at her reaction. “Ah! Oh man…”

“No, no,” he said hurriedly, realizing how it had sounded. “I mean… I mean, you stood out. You weren’t like the other profiles. To be honest, it looked like you were the one that was least enthused about the whole thing…”

She stopped laughing and titled her head at him. “So I looked like I wasn’t thrilled to be married… and
that’s
why you chose me?” she asked. “That’s even worse!”

Sarah was taking it all in stride and seemed eagerly amused, but Dylan made a groaning sound and tried again. “You looked like you didn’t care what other people thought… or what they were asking you to do. I guess… I guess when I heard about it, and Chris told me I had to choose someone, I was attracted to your picture because you looked like you knew how I felt. Like you felt the same way.”

She nodded and took a step back. “That’s a much better answer,” she said softly, and turned back toward the ocean. “Thank you for choosing me. No one’s done that before.” Her voice was barely discernible as she pulled her tank-top over her head in one fluid motion and he saw the moonlight strike the flesh of her back, eerily blue. Two small dimples glowered above the rim of her pants, above her lower back, and she looked over her shoulder as if wondering if he was going to follow.

He let out a huff and rubbed his face. “Alright, I’m coming,” he said.

She didn’t answer, she just dropped the tank-top on the sand beside her and undid the button on the top of her pants. He heard a zip as she carefully drew the zipper down and looked again shyly over her shoulder as she lowered them over her waist and they dropped to her ankles. His heart thumped again, louder, as he admired the ample curves of her long thighs that seemed to frame her buttocks.

She had on a black thong and let out a timid sigh as she shuffled out of them as well, and he saw moonlight glint just barely on the underside of her sex as she bent over and laid her clothes neatly next to a piece of driftwood. From the side of her profile, he glimpsed the parabola of her breasts, small and pert, the nipple sharply turned upward. Even though it was dark, he saw her blush in spite of herself.             

“Don’t stare,” she admonished, but her voice was almost too quiet to hear. She stayed stooped over, hugging her chest as if to hide her obvious nakedness.

He looked at his feet and began to undress as well. The night air was cooler than he expected, and he shivered as he placed his clothes on another piece of driftwood opposite her. He had never really been naked in front of a girl before, save for Lilah when they’d had to take baths together as children. His movements seemed awkward, too measured, as he walked down the sand toward her, and she stood up timidly, still giving her side profile to him.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “It’s funny… I’ve done this so many times, I mean… come here, to change, that I never even really thought about it. The idea of being naked in front of another person...”

Sarah merely nodded, and he realized it was more awkward for her –
you took control of the situation when we first met
, he thought
, I guess one good turn deserves another.
He reached down blindly and took her hand in his and saw her look up at him. He reached out and gently slid the green headband off her forehead and set it down on her pile of clothes with his other hand, and met her eyes.
That’s the real reason I chose you
, he realized
, those eyes that see so sharply into other people
.

“C’mon, let me show you the way the island really looks… through a bear’s
eyes,” he said grinning.

Wordlessly she let him lead her over the sand, both of their feet slapping the damp sand. He seemed fixated on something. She took the moment to examine his features. Certainly, there was more of a boy to him than man. Chris, on the other hand, seemed to inhabit everything that an adult was supposed to be. She wondered what exactly those qualities were. Certainly, Chris seemed harder, edgier, while hiding that edge with a grin and fierce sense of humor.

Have I lulled myself into believing that the only way we – Dylan and myself – can ever call ourselves ‘truly’ adults is to embody so much hidden pain in our past that it forces us to wear a mask around others?

The thought made her suddenly sad and she almost forgot that she was naked and being led by the hand over a dark swathe of beach. Dylan looked over his shoulder just once to see if she was still following of her own accord. She somehow managed to flash a tight-lipped smile which did little to betray the deluge of emotions that seemed to pile on her at that moment.

No
, she tried to assert, a vocative in her own mind.
Tonight, just let me feel the bear and forget about how or why or how long I’m to stay on this island
. Dylan had done much, more than she thought was possible, to make her feel welcome and to put her own fears at risk. Even so far as to be able to share something as intimate as a bear-form together. And yet, he hadn’t really done anything at all.

“Here,” he said at last, panting, and let go of her hand. “From here, it’s on all fours…”

CHAPTER THREE

The following morning Dylan woke early. There were two bedrooms in the cabin, and Chris had politely moved his own futon into his room in anticipation of Sarah’s arrival. He was passed out heavy on the floor, snoring dreamily and loudly, his eyes shifting under their eyelids.
If he starts barking or running in one spot, we’re in trouble
, Dylan smirked to himself, standing up forcing the floorboards to creak under his feet. He rubbed his eyes, and saw the creamy light of the sun hatching through the clouds. The buzz of mosquitoes outside, somewhere a distant loon call, laughed back.

The events of last night flooded back to him. It was always this way, after changing back into human-form. While as a bear, there was little in the way of human thought, there was only the present, the
now
, as Lilah liked to call it. Scents, sounds, taste. All the senses burning like a margin of flame. It wasn’t until he slid back into his muscular arms and sculpted chest and dark black hair that things began to reorganize, the mind trying to sort its way through thought processes that were distinctly different. He could recall his time as a bear like any other memory.

And yet, there was always something hallucinatory to it, like looking back on an event you hadn’t actually been there to witness. He remembered Sarah, the way she undressed, each article of clothing deliberate. The shy way she had tried to hide the small horns of her breasts, the limpid gaze of vulnerability. And then, they had both turned. She was smaller than him, a shade lighter, like auburn that had been touched with sunlight. They had run along the cliffs above the beach, embracing the freedom of the bear-form. It had been quite late when they’d finally returned, and as if reversing time, she had put on her clothes again with a touch of hesitancy and they had returned to the cabin without a single word.

I think I made the right choice
, he wanted to confide in Chris, as he walked into the kitchen, feeling rejuvenated from his experience with the mysterious girl. He was speechless when he opened the door and saw her stooped in front of the makeshift larder. She was barefoot and her toes were craned as she squatted, peering into their supply of canned fruit. She had a spoon in her mouth. Her eyes widened, like a deer caught in the headlights, and he realized she was only half-dressed. The black thong she had had on last night did little to cover the smooth pale length of her thighs, or the seductive angle of her buttocks, which folded out from her tight back. She had on a short green undershirt but it was loose enough that as she stretched he could see the rippling expanse of her stomach, flat and muscled. The hem of the thong was low below her navel and he could distinctly make out the divot of her labia standing out against the fabric.

“Oh!” she gasped, and then seemed to realize what she looked like and stood up quickly in a show of false modesty, the spoon still in her mouth. The buds of both nipples corkscrewed against the green T-shirt.

“Uh,” Dylan said, quickly turning his eyes toward the stove and scratching his head, more as a distraction for himself. “Glad… glad to see you’re up.”

“Yeah, I was, uh…” she removed the spoon from her mouth and he saw her wince in embarrassment, “just still really hungry from last night. I mean, with changing… I mean, back and forth, bear to human. I always get… hungry.”

The awkwardness was palpable and Dylan knew that if Chris were up and awake he’d probably be bristling with laughter. As it was, there was only the two of them and he cleared his throat and made a b-line for the stove.

“Well, I’ll get some breakfast started, then. Chris usually makes dinner… but he loves to sleep late, so that usually means I have to do breakfasts. I was thinking… I mean, if you’re not still sick of salmon… a salmon egg’s Benedict, yeah?”

“That, that sounds great,” Sarah said more softly, and hugged her chest. “Just let me… get some pants on, first.” She bolted back to her bedroom and slammed the door – almost loud enough to wake Chris. Dylan couldn’t help but sneak a look at her as she passed. Her buttocks bounced with careless abandon as she skirted toward the door and he felt something akin to desire strike a nerve.

She returned several minutes later in a pair of raggedy jeans with holes in the knees and he blushed, as if it were a delayed after-effect of having seen her in her underwear.

“Very grunge,” he observed comically, trying to act normal.
As if a half-naked girl in my kitchen were a normal thing
, he thought with some bemusement.

She didn’t seem to understand, until he motioned to her jeans she blushed. “Oh, heh… they’re actually from a friend. Kind of a good luck charm.”

He went to work but was acutely aware of her standing off to one side as if he’d walked in on her doing something indecent. He spoke over his shoulder as he broke the eggs, asking her to make some milk from the powder. She obeyed almost instantly but there was still something… distant about her.

Dylan frowned, even as the eggs began to sizzle in the heavy cast iron pan. Not five minutes earlier he had been excited to see her, eager to work on the rapport they had seemed to excel at only the night before. On the beach she had been open, laughing. Now she seemed withdrawn.
Did I do something wrong
, he wondered.

As though sensing his discomfort she broke the silence. “Listen, about last night…” she began.

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, and then didn’t really know why he’d been so quick to cut her off. “It’s uhm… I mean, I know we’re supposed to be
engaged
,” the word sounded alien in his mouth, “but I didn’t… I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’ve been changing back and forth, bear to human, so much on the island, I didn’t stop to consider your feelings… I know it’s sort of…”

“Intimate,” she filled in.

“Yeah,” he said, “other than Chris, Lilah’s the only one I’ve changed in front of.”

“Lilah?” she asked, her voice was mostly curious, but there was something of an edge to it as well.

Jealousy
, Dylan wondered.

He laughed quickly. “My kid sister. She’s an adept shifter. Kind of a prodigy.”

She opened her mouth and mimed an
ahh
sound. “It’s not that… I’m glad you showed me the island. And… and it is refreshing, to be able to change with another person. It’s just,” she looked away quickly, “I guess the whole marriage thing crept up on me. I’ve known, objectively, I was going to get married for a long time… but, it didn’t really hit me until last night. I just feel scrambled.”

He gave an understanding nod. “Just like these eggs.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, more or less. Anyway… it’s… it’s not you…”

“Take as much time as you need,” Dylan said, and looked back at the pan quickly. Even though she was still a stranger to him, those words had hit a nerve. As much as he wanted to believe that her reticence now was due to her own feelings – and perhaps her own misgivings – it was impossible for him to fully extricate himself from the equation. Other than the island, he was the only new variable in her life, and if she was having trouble accepting the circumstances, than he was invariably at the center of it.

Already, his mind was racing, trying to decipher some sort of solution that would put them both back on equal and stable ground.
There is no stability with emotions like these
, he thought sagely, and then for the umpteenth time since he’d been on the island, worried that Chris’ somewhat pedantic (if unerringly wise) ways were rubbing off on him.

“Maybe you’d better wake up the old bear,” he said, thumbing toward the door of his own room. There was still an audible growling sound as Chris snored away, like an idling chainsaw.

***

The next few days passed without incident, becoming a kind of blur for all three of them. For the most part, Chris stayed out of the way of Dylan and Sarah, as if encouraging them to get to know each other better without his supervision or intervention. There was a sense of politeness between Dylan and Sarah that almost seemed formalized. They would greet each other, smile, share pleasantries, try to help out with the daily chores whenever possible, but it was as if each polite gesture was somehow placating a deeper anxiety.

For Sarah, it was like walking on the thread of a spider-web, even though she knew that the majority of the tension they were all feeling was mostly because of her. She was the outsider who had invaded the men’s private world and as much as she tried to act normal and take it all in stride, something was holding her back.

That first day, fresh off the floatplane’s wing, she had vowed to take charge. It was only natural, considering she had been thrown into a situation that wasn’t her charge. She couldn’t blame the men either; Dylan had done, and seemingly continued to do, his best to be welcoming, but both of them seemed to be skirting the elephant in the room.

We’re supposed to get married.
It wasn’t that the notion of marriage particularly appalled her. Part of her training had been learning to accept it as a casual fact and she had to admit the idea of it excited her, deep down. The idea of finding a mate, of being able to share her life with a common soul, and of course, of the more physical aspects, thrilled her. She blushed, even though no one was in the cabin at this time of day. Dylan always left early in the morning, whether she was awake or not. If she was, she got to enjoy his famous breakfasts, which were always filling and gave her energy for the rest of the day.

But it was lonely sometimes to wake up to an empty cabin. Although Chris slept late, these days he too had taken to leaving the cabin early, reveling in the domestic duties of the island, such as lugging water up from the creek, cleaning, clearing brush, or maintaining the many trails that circulated over the island like a webbed circuitry. The latter was an odd duty, considering more often than not, Dylan preferred to roam as a bear, and Chris usually realized in hindsight that it would be quicker to get from point A to point B by simply bushwhacking.

She sighed and tossed her dishes in the sink and felt little motivation to clean them. Instead, she slipped on a pair of running shoes and her shorts and decided to go for a run.
At least I’ll give Chris’ hard work a sense of purpose, that way,
she resigned.

It was cloudy out, the perfect weather for running. The Pacific weather was very fickle though, one moment it could be raining, the next it could be sunny and blistering hot, and the next, snowing. The coast seemed to inhabit this temperament throughout. Even the sparse wildlife, which consisted mainly of rabbits, the occasional doe and her fawns, and a multitude of birds, shifted back and forth between capricious braveness and sheer timidity.

Absently, she wondered if it had anything to do with them as shifters.
Maybe they can sense the alternating current of human and bear
, she thought to herself, looking up through the canopy and starting at a slow jog. Soon, the wind was whistling in her ears and she felt endorphins pumping through her veins, filling her with a general sense of well-being. The main trail she liked to use wound its way like a sporadic tributary over the main rise of the island, and then circled the bluffs and ended up down on the beach Dylan had taken her that first night.

She blushed again, hating herself for it. It was a terrible habit, and every time she felt blood rushing to her cheeks and her eyes watering it was another small reminder of all the ways she wasn’t in control. She increased her speed, cursing under breath. Running was a good way to distract herself but today it wasn’t working.

As she worked her way around the bluffs, following familiar roots and rocks in the path, and re-learning the different smells that represented sections of the trial – old man’s beard here, the spicy tang of wild ginger underfoot there – her frustration only increased.
What am I doing on this island
, she wanted to scream. Down a steep incline that made several switchbacks down to the ocean she almost didn’t notice another sound that was echoing in sync with her heart-rate.

Consciously, she slowed down. Through a veil of ferns and cedar boughs, she could see a shape out on the waves in the bay. It was small, just big enough for the four figures that were sitting or standing in its white painted hull. A small outboard hummed against the crash of waves. Sarah ducked down further and pulled the green headband further over her forehead to conceal the white flesh, which might give her away.

Very slowly, she crept down through the bushes of salal and ferns, trying to get a better look. She was enraptured by the thrill of sneaking up on a quarry, even if it was something as innocuous as a boat. At one point, she went down on all fours and slithered on her belly over the moss –
how ladylike I must look now
, she mused, wishing her parents could see her now.

Through another gap in the salal she propped herself on her elbows and looked down. It was definitely a small boat with a pulsing outboard.
Too small to have made it all the way here on its own, though
;
part of another vessel?
She frowned. Chris had been quite adamant that this island was, in his own words, a ‘protected enclave’, whatever that meant. She figured money had passed hands at some point among the clans and turned the island into a park.

“It’s off limits,” Chris’ voice echoed in her head, “the public isn’t allowed on it.”