They reached a small clearing bathed in moonlight. Christopher stopped and turned to face her, his expression so vulnerable it made her heart ache.
“What I’m about to show you might frighten you,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But please know I would never hurt you, Sorcha. Not ever.”
“I trust you,” she said, and realized with startling clarity that she meant it completely.
Christopher nodded, then stepped back. “Don’t run,” he whispered. “Please don’t run.”
Before she could respond, the air around him popped and crackled as if filled with static electricity. Then he seemed to shiver as if surrounded by a heat haze. Then he was gone!
Sorcha’s hand flew to her mouth. Where was he? What kind of elaborate trick was this?
Had he been playing her all along, leading to this moment, hoping to gain exposure for Bear Creek Cabins from her article?
No, he wouldn’t do that to her. Would he?
But then a shadow loomed large, its outline becoming less opaque until where Christopher had stood moments before, there stood an enormous brown bear.
Her legs went weak, and she sank to her knees in the snow, too shocked to feel the cold seeping through her jeans. The bear—Christopher—watched her with the same intelligent eyes she’d come to know, though now they gazed at her from a face that was decidedlynothuman.
“Christopher?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
The bear huffed softly and took a careful step toward her, then another, moving slowly as if afraid of startling her. Sorcha remained frozen, her mind racing to process what she’d just witnessed.
When the bear reached her, it…he…lowered his massive head and gently nudged her shoulder with his muzzle. The gesturewas so tender, so unmistakably Christopher, that tears sprang to Sorcha’s eyes.
“It’s really you in there, isn’t it?” she asked, raising a shaking hand.
The bear rumbled low in his throat and pressed his head against her palm. His fur was thick and surprisingly soft beneath her fingers. Sorcha let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and began to stroke his head, running her fingers through the dense brown coat.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, awe replacing fear as she explored this new form of the man she’d come to care for so deeply.
Christopher the bear sat back on his haunches, allowing her to move closer. Sorcha ran her hands over his massive shoulders, marveling at the power she could feel beneath his fur. She scratched behind his ears, and to her surprise, the enormous creature made a sound that could only be described as a purr of contentment.
“This is why you feel so at home here,” she said softly. “This is why you run so hot. This is what you meant when you said Bear Creek called to something deep inside you.”
The bear nodded his massive head, his eyes never leaving hers. Sorcha continued to stroke his fur, finding comfort in the rhythmic motion as her mind struggled to reconcile what she now knew about Christopher.
“Can you change back?” she asked after several minutes had passed. “I have so many questions.”
The bear huffed again and moved away from her, and Sorcha watched, fascinated, as the air popped and fizzed once more and the bear vanished. A moment later, Christopher stood in its place, human once more.
“You’re not running away,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “I was so afraid you would.”
“I’m still processing,” Sorcha admitted, rising to her feet. “But no, I’m not running. I want to understand.”
Christopher moved toward her, his eyes searching her face. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she said simply. “What are you? How is this possible?”
Christopher took her hands in his, his touch grounding her as her mind still reeled from what she’d witnessed.
“I’m a shifter,” he explained. “I inherited the gene from my father.”
“Are there others like you here in Bear Creek?” Sorcha asked, trying to imagine an entire community of people who could transform into bears.
Christopher nodded. “Yes, and in the surrounding towns. But not just bears. There are wolves and cougars. Even lions.”
“Lions?” Sorcha’s eyes widened. “That’s…” She had no words.
