“Pardon me,” Fiona said in an ice-princess tone, one he hadn’t witnessed from her before. “Did you call me a slut?”
“If the cap fits,” Ma retorted. “Bah! I’ve had enough.” She turned on her heel and departed as quickly as she’d arrived.
Runt strode to Fiona and pulled her into a tight embrace. A protest rose to Leif’s lips, but he beat it down. Now wasn’t the time. They had to present a united front to their mother and hold things together until she departed for her annual ice retreat.
Fiona pulled away from Runt, jutted out her chin and speared each of them with a glare. “That’s your mother? She’s a bitch. And who is she calling a human in that derogatory way?”
Leif sucked in a breath, his gaze on the doorway through which their mother had disappeared. Seconds later, she strode back through, her eyes firing salvos of wrath at them.
“You’re hiding your heritage from the puny human?” she mocked. She folded her arms andtap-tap-tappedher right foot on the concrete floor of the warehouse.
“No, Ma.” Kirk edged between Ma and Fiona.
Leif followed suit, his gaze watchful. This situation could drop into a fiery hell at any second now. Ma with a head of steam turned her into an unpredictable beast. Her volatile nature and strength made the other matriarchs of the pack unwilling to dispute Brigitte’s outright leadership.
“You, human. Why did you come to Churchill?”
“My name is Fiona,” Fiona said in her princess ice-tone. “I came to see polar bears.”
“So you’ll be flying out in a week,” Ma said, sounding happier. “Let me save you the trouble.”
Faint prickles filled the air and a light shone around Ma.Crap. She intended to scare Fiona away.
“Runt, keep Fiona safe. Lock yourselves upstairs if necessary.”
Seconds later, Leif called his bear to the surface, letting the magic of the shift wash over him. At his side, Kirk did the same.
He hated to fight Ma, but he would if it meant keeping Fiona safe.
Fiona stared, too fascinated to experience fear. They…they were changing shape, morphing to something…someone else.
“We should go upstairs.” Stig exerted force with the arm around her waist. “It’s not safe down here with Ma in a pissy mood.”
A bear.
A polar bear?
Fiona blinked rapidly to clear the mirage her brain insisted stood right in front of her. Refocusing did nothing to clear the amazing vision. Did that mean werewolves and dragons and vampires were real and her favorite romance authors weren’t making up shifters? She blinked again and wished she had her camera. She’d love to show Robert and rub his nose in the truth. He’d enjoyed scoffing and belittling her attachment to reading romances about other-worldly beasts.
The first bear—Mrs. Swenson—stood on her hind legs and roared. The growl thundered through the warehouse, and the small hairs at the back of Fiona’s neck stood to attention. She was quite big. Ooh, Leif and Kirk had turned in to bears. They were frickin’ huge.
“We should go,” Stig repeated.
“Okay. I’ll get my camera. Can you do that? Does it hurt? Why didn’t you tell me when I was going on about polar bears?”
“Upstairs,” Stig repeated, tension in his shoulders and jaw.
“Your mother isn’t very nice.”
“We’ll discuss this upstairs,” Stig snapped. “Move.Now.”
He hustled her up the stairs, using his strength to propel her unwilling limbs.
“Stig, can’t I watch for a bit longer? I never believed shifters were real.”
At the top of the spiral staircase, Stig pushed her through the door and locked it behind them. The growls and thunderous roars continued after them, only slightly muted by the sturdy steel barrier.
“This way,” Stig urged.
