“These are our winter stores,” Cody explained, glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t know about an army, but it’ll be enough to get us through the first part of denning season, which started today. After Christmas, we’ll make a few more runs down the mountainto get enough food to stuff ourselves silly for the New Year’s Hibernation Feast—hold off with all the questions, cocoa bean!”
Kicking the fridge door closed, he carried armfuls of goods over to a heavy-duty oven nestled into the rock. “I’ll explain what that and denning season mean after I finish making us something to eat.”
Okay, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to him reading my thoughts.
But curiosity about the one-of-a-kind kitchen tugged at me. “Here, I’ll help you…” I offered, starting to get up.
Only to reel back when both Ash and Cody shouted, “No!”
Ash sprang into a low crouch, as if he were ready to tackle me if I tried to get past him. And Cody spun back around from the stove, his hands splayed wide like a quarterback going on the defensive.
I froze, feeling like a soldier who’d just stepped on a live mine. “What?” I asked.
“Female bears don’t do that in estrus,” Cody answered.
“Cook?” I glanced between him and Ash.
“Anything,” Cody shot back in a tone usually reserved for life-or-death situations.
“Anything you need, you only have to ask us.” Ash straightened from his crouch, his tone calm but firm. “Your only job during estrus is lying in your nest and letting your bears attend to you. That’s the maul way.”
I stared at them for several long beats. Then I asked, “What if I want to take a shower?”
“Tell us if you wish to be cleaned, and we’ll do that for you,” Ash said, his expression utterly serious.
“With, like, a washcloth and a basin?” I asked. Hopefully.
Neither of them answered. Both their faces went carefully neutral.
Which made me realize out loud, “It’s with your tongues, isn’t it? Please don’t tell me you lick me clean.”
Another double-blank look. Apparently, their way of not telling me the unsettling truth I’d specifically asked them not to.
That was when another darker, way-too-boundary-pushing idea occurred to me.
“What if I need to pee?” I whispered, like a porn star who’d wandered into a horror film.
“Then we take turns drinking from your kitty kat,” Cody answered, his expression grave. “And if you poop?—”
“Third, do not put that image in her head before my turn,” Ash cut in sharply.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself!” Cody admitted, cracking up with a wide grin.
As he laughed, Ash calmly explained, “Bears are incredibly well-designed in comparison to humans—and even wolf shifters. Your Bear Spirit puts most biological functions on hold while you’re in estrus. You’ll appreciate food but won’t hunger for it. And you won’t need to worry about organic waste management until your cycle is complete.”
“Wow,” I said, plopping back down into the nest I was apparently forbidden to leave. Then it occurred to me to ask, “What about my period?”
And that was how Ash and I ended up talking about how female bears—like most non-primate mammals—don’t have to deal with periods while Cody made us something to eat.
“I think I’m going to like being a bear,” I admitted as Cody set down delicious plates of thick pancakes and sizzling sausage links that he’d whipped up in less than ten minutes. He placed the dishes on a blanket Ash had spread out in front of my nest, so I wouldn’t have to leave.
I noticed Cody carried the plates like a pro, two balanced on one arm while he set the first down in front of me. I'd guessed soldier earlier, but this made me suspect he worked in the food industry—just like I could always sense another nurse by their resting state of calm efficiency. It made me wonder what Cody officially did for a living.
And that, in turn, made me think of the shifter who’d slammed out of the den earlier. The delicious food turned to ash in my mouth.
“Is this really going to hurt your maul—you all not agreeing on whether to help me?”
Cody and Ash exchanged a look that made my stomach tighten. It felt a lot like they were talking about me behind my back?—
