It’s been too long since I’ve worn this form, and every nerve-ending protests the scrape of denim, the weight of boots on feet that want to be paws, the dull flatness of human senses after tasting the wind.
My bear paces restlessly, and I clamp my hands at my sides, fighting the urge to scratch.
Still pissed off about being back on two feet, I frown when I hear my name.
“Bodhi?” someone scoffs. “No. No way. He can’t be our best option.” A pause. “I know he’s physically capable, but is he mentally stable enough?”
I freeze outside the front door of Chase Walker’s fancy new security firm headquarters, my sensitive ears catching every word through the open window that’s halfway down the solid red brick wall.
Beau dragged me here from my rustic mountain refuge with barely an explanation, just the promise that it was “important enough to put pants on.”
Now, I’m questioning the accuracy of that statement. Right now, it’s hard to imagine anything important enough to deal with people again. Especially if they don’t even want me here.
All I want is to shift back into my animal form and charge into the trees.
But that’s not going to make things any better. And it’s definitely not going to convince my nosy family that I’d be fine if they’d just leave me alone.
I need to prove it to them, which is exactly why I’m here.
Sucking in one last breath of fresh air, I roll my shoulders back and crack my neck, trying to feel comfortable in my skin before I go inside. When I’ve decided I’m good now, I rest my hand on the doorknob, flex my fingers, and freeze as my bear rears up at the idea of trapping ourselves indoors.
Maybe I’m not quite as good as I thought. Even though I’d never admit it, my brother might be right. I’ve been spending too much time as my bear, and it’s given him too much control.
With a low rumble of discontent, I push through the heavy doors, lumbering awkwardly on two legs instead of four. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflective glass as I pass and grimace.
If Beau thought I looked homeless the last time I shifted back, he ain’t seen nothing yet. Dark hair past my shoulders that’s gone from slightly wild to completely untamed, borrowed clothes that hang wrong on my broad frame.
Running a hand over my long, unkempt beard, I comfort myself with the knowledge that at least I don’t smell. Daily baths in the river keep my hygiene standards passable, even if my grooming has gone to hell.
Natalie is leaning over the high desk, pointing to something in front of the new employee who’s manning the desk when she senses me approaching. She presses a button to open the doors, which slide back with a whoosh as she stares at me, hereyebrows reaching for her hairline, and shakes her head slowly in disbelief.
“Jesus, Bodhi.” She takes me in from head to toe, and for once, my sister is stuck for words.
“Good to see you too,” I mumble, the words feeling odd as they roll around my mouth, rough and unpracticed.
The young man sitting behind the counter peers up at me, swallowing hard as he struggles not to react. When Natalie stands toe to toe with me and tugs on the end of my tangled mop of hair, his eyes widen to the size of saucers.
“Nat, get back,” he hisses, looking around frantically for someone else to help. He stands, slowly coming around the desk, but he doesn’t look confident in his decision as he realises just how much taller than him I am.
“I know you’re not a fan of barbers, but have you heard of scissors?”
To give him credit, he’s worried about my sister, who appears to be provoking some wild mountain man who’s wandered out of the bushes, but he’s going to need to toughen up if he wants to keep his job here.
“Where’s Chase? He wanted to see me, apparently.”
The newbie at her side visibly relaxes when he hears I was officially invited to the private compound that’s set deep in the mountains.
“Waiting for you,” Natalie says, just as my stomach rumbles loudly, and I press a hand over it. “Find me after. I’ll show you where the kitchen is.”
I turn away and follow Chase’s scent toward the thick double doors to the left. “Or you could just bring me something,” I call over my shoulder, smiling to myself when I hear Natalie’s loud laugh as she buzzes me through.
“Not a chance.”
The scent of chargrilled beef assaults me the moment I step into the open-plan office. My head snaps toward it before I can stop myself, an ashen-faced tech operative, frozen mid-bite, eyes wide, already sliding the burger across her desk like an offering. She slumps down behind her computer, headphones on and staring at me, terrified, as if I might lunge across her desk.
I force a stiff nod and keep walking. She doesn’t look reassured, but she breathes again, which is something.
Tripp’s voice reaches me as I approach, his weak human senses not detecting my presence yet.
