“Make small talk,” she kept her gaze glued to the dirt path. “I’m on the spectrum, and I’ve had a day, and it’s late. Silence is preferred.”
I stared over at her.
Sothiswas what it felt like to fall… to fall in love so hard it felt like asthma, which bear shifters couldn’t even get. But suddenly, I understood the human ailment.
She was blunt. Honest in a way I avoided being so people wouldn’t know me. And she smelled like an entire jar of expensive honey.
How could I not stare at her like fucking Winnie the Pooh?
And fall into an also preferred silence as we walked along.
That is, until those human guys from earlier reappeared in the distance, walking toward us.
I quietly—but not subtly—shifted to her left side so that I’d be between her and them when they passed.
Don’t try anything,I mentally pleaded.Don’t even look at her.
I didn’t want to show her my crazy, but I didn’t know if I could hold my bear back if these humans tried anything.
Luckily, one of the guys addressed only me as they passed. “Don’t bother going to the bar,” he advised. “They just closed early for the night.”
What?
I looked beyond them, and sure enough, a stream of people were spilling out of the log-cabin-style Bar and Grill my family had been running since we got here.
The grill always closed at ten, but the bar was supposed to stay open till midnight for all the humans at the hotel. Had there been an accident? Was something wrong? Were Cal and Keli okay?
All the shit I worried about when it came to the only people I’d allowed myself to care forbeforeLark Bird walked into our lobby flashed through my head.
Then I saw Cal walking toward us, alongside our oldest niece, who waved at me before jogging past theBear Mountain Residents Onlysigns toward the Ayaska Village.
What the hell?
He came jogging toward us, and I braced for bad news—a grease fire or a busted pipe or something—but his entire face lit up.
And I realized why.
He wasn’t grinning at me.
He looked down at her. Lark. Lark Bird.
“Hey, friend,” he said, all casual in a way that didn’t take him nearly as much effort. “I was just coming to check on you. But I see you’re already headed back to our place with my brother.”
Hold on.
“You’re the guy who offered to host her for the night?” I asked Callum.
At the same time, she said, “Wait! You two arebrothers?”
Now we both turned to stare at her. Quizzically. But, as usual, Cal spoke for us both.
“Yeah,” he answered with a careful tone. “We’re identical twins, like I told you earlier.”
She looked between us, confused. “Are you sure you’re not fraternal?” she asked. “You really don’t look alike. Like, at all.”
No. We weren’t fraternal. Genetics and my will had made sure we matched in every outward way.
In fact, Cal wore the same shocked expression I did when we realized—simultaneously:
