“Can you shift?” I ask.
Carla nods, staring up at the expanse of blue above us. “I think so.”
It’s been three weeks since she’s seen the sun. The realization makes my chest tight. She’s been through hell.
“This way,” I murmur, guiding her through the shallow water to the far side. “Stay low and quiet.”
We move as quickly as we can while staying in the shadows of the trees before the stream widens, the bank too steep for us to follow along right beside. Once among the trees, I shift, smooth and fast, hiding my clothes behind a fallen log.
Carla hesitates, flushing when she looks at me, probably afraid she’s too tired to manage the transformation.
My bear huffs, giving her some encouragement, which quickly turns into an appreciative rumble as she sheds her clothes, and the air around her shimmers before she’s replaced with a lean but beautiful silver wolf.
She steps up beside me and waits for me to lead the way.
My bear nudges her gently, loving the feel of her fur brushing against mine, before taking off at a trot, careful to set a pace she’ll be able to manage.
After a while, we pick up the pace, eager to put as much distance between us and the compound as possible.
The forest is dense here, old growth pines with thick undergrowth. Difficult terrain, especially for someone who’s been locked in a basement for weeks. I slow my pace, watching as Carla struggles to keep up.
She’s trying hard not to show it, but exhaustion is written in every line of her body. Something isn’t right.
When Carla stumbles, her steps becoming less sure as tiredness makes her clumsy, I stop and drop to the ground, jerking my head toward my back.
Shifting back, Carla stays on her knees, too weak to stand, sweaty beading on her brow.
“On your back? You want me to climb on your back?” she asks, incredulous. “But I’m…” She looks down at her naked form and blushes again.
Wolves are rarely bashful, nakedness is nothing unusual among shifters, but her shyness is endearing. I close my eyes, and she laughs, reaching out to run her fingers through my thick coat. Seconds later, she lays her body along my back and wraps her legs around my side.
Leaning forward, her lips whisper close to my ear, “Thank you.”
A shiver travels through me, nothing to do with my wet paws or the chill in the air on this crisp morning, and all to do with the attractive woman with her naked body pressed against me.
Up close, the difference in her scent is even more pronounced. It makes my bear restless, alert in a way I don’t understand.You’re a terrible person, I tell myself, as attraction stirs within me. But I don’t have time to worry about why I’m like this. I need to keep moving.
We continue through the forest in silence, Carla’s fingers digging into my fur, stroking my back with each curl of her fingers. It’d be heaven if it weren’t for the threat of being caught hanging over us. The meeting point with Beau is still a mileaway, maybe more. I listen carefully for sounds of pursuit, but the forest is quiet except for our breathing and the crunch of leaves beneath our feet.
Suddenly, Carla slips from my back, going down hard. Before I can think, I’ve shifted back to my human form, and I’m at her side, lifting her into my arms. She’s lighter than she should be; her body’s radiating heat that even I know isn’t normal.
“You’re sick. You need a doctor.” I try to put my hand on her forehead, but she shoves it away.
“I’m okay.” She gasps, pushing against my chest. “Put me down.”
“You’re not okay,” I counter, but I set her gently on her feet. The brief contact leaves my skin tingling, my bear pushing forward with a possessiveness that catches me off guard. He doesn’t want to let her go. In fact, quite the opposite. He wants to pull her body closer and touch every inch of her skin.
She takes a step back, and he growls, taking us both by surprise. Fear flashes in her eyes. “We need to keep moving.”
Before I can respond, she pushes past me, determinedly forging ahead.
I follow, confused and concerned. What the hell is going on with my bear?
We reach the old logging road just as I hear it, the distant sound of an engine. For a heart-stopping moment, I think it’s my father’s men, that they’ve discovered our escape. But then a familiar black SUV appears, and relief crashes through me.
Beau.
He leans against the driver’s side, tall and imposing, serious as always, as he watches us approach. His eyes widen slightly when he sees Carla’s condition as she staggers up the hill to where he’s parked. Without a word, he reaches into the back seat and pulls out clothes, tossing them in both our directions.
