She nods.
I close my eyes and let go.
The shift rolls through me like a wave, my body reshaping itself, bones and muscles rearranging into something new. There’s freedom in it, letting the animal take over. The release of setting aside complicated human thoughts and just existing.
When I open my eyes again, the world is different. Sharper. Brighter. Every smell amplified, every sound clear as a bell.
And there she is.
Our mate.
She’s staring at us with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. We’re larger than she thought we’d be. I can see it in her face. My bear’s form is massive, dark brown fur thick against the cold, the scar on his face a pale slash through the fur. His eyes glow bright gold.
My bear doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to scare her. Just stands there in the snow, letting her look her fill.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Tolin.”
My bear makes a low sound. Not a growl. Something softer. A greeting.
She takes a tentative step toward him. Then another.
“You’re beautiful,” she says again, and my bear preens like a fool.
She stops a few feet away, her hand raised but not touching. Waiting for permission.
My bear closes the distance himself, pressing his massive head against her palm.
Her fingers sink into his fur and he shudders. I feel that touch everywhere, from the tips of his ears to the pads of his paws. My bear wants to roll over, show her his belly, let her rub him like a damn puppy. I’m mortified. My bear doesn’t care.
“Hey there, big guy.” Her voice is soft, wondering. She scratches behind his ear and he makes an embarrassing sound of pleasure. “You’re just a softie, aren’t you? All this grumpy bear nonsense and you just want belly rubs.”
My bear huffs indignantly.
She laughs, actually laughs, and my bear wants to make her do it again and again just so we can hear that sound.
“Can you understand me?” she asks. “Like, is Tolin in there?”
My bear nods his massive head.
“That’s so weird.” She’s grinning now, her fear completely gone. “So you can hear everything I say but you can’t talk back?”
Another nod.
“That must be frustrating.” She strokes along his jaw, her fingers gentle over the scar. “But I kind of like having you at a disadvantage for once. You can’t interrupt me or say something grumpy.”
My bear snorts, and it comes out like a gust of warm air against her face. She giggles.
“Your eyes are gorgeous,” she tells him, staring into them without fear. “So bright. I can see why people talk about shifter eyes. They’re not human at all, are they? But they’re still you. I can see you in there.”
My bear is gone for this woman. Completely and utterly gone. The man in me feels the same.
My bear nudges her with his head, pushing gently against her stomach.
“What?” She laughs as he nudges her again. “What do you want?”
He lowers himself to the ground, settling into the snow, and looks back at her meaningfully.
Her eyes go wide. “You want me to... ride you?”
