Mine.
The thought slammed into me with the force of a charging elk. Absolute. Undeniable. Terrifying.
I'd never felt anything like it and it terrified me.
Rivik dove past me, shifting mid-leap to tackle Karik away from the strangers. He took Tarek down and I growled at him as he knocked the small female to the ground with them. Anger boiled inside me and I moved towards them. Rivik could have hurt her. I slowed as I realised he was standing over her, protecting her as he would a pup. Something in me settled at that, even as the rest of me burned. Good. Rivik had her. She was protected.
But it should have been me.
I shoved the thought aside and forced myself to focus on the fight.
Karik's wolves were already scattering. They'd been outnumbered the moment we broke through the tree line, and they knew it. Jarak and Miska hit the two remaining wolves from opposite sides, driving them back from the camp with coordinated precision. Fen had circled wide, cutting off the retreat along the river, forcing them uphill where the terrain worked against them.
I let the bear spirit take over. Brenn was closest, the stocky bastard who'd been holding the dark-furred female wolf. He saw me coming and tried to shift, but he was too slow. I caught him with one massive paw, the impact lifting him clean off his feet and sending him tumbling across the frozen mud. He scrambled up, shifted to wolf form, and bolted. I let him go. I wasn't here tokill, I was here to drive them out, and the thunder of my roar at his retreating back made the message clear enough.
Karik himself was already pulling his wolves back, snarling commands. He was no fool—vicious and dishonourable, yes, but not stupid enough to take on a full hunting party with a cave bear at its centre. He barked something at Rivik. A challenge, maybe. Or an excuse. Rivik's only answer was a snarl that made the ground feel like it was vibrating, and the bear in me added my own voice to it, a roar that echoed off the valley walls and sent a visible flinch through Karik's wolves.
That's right. Run.
They did. Karik held Rivik's gaze for one more heartbeat, then turned with a sharp bark and his pack slunk away through the rocks, and the valley fell into a strange, ringing silence broken only by the rush of the river.
I shifted back to human form, my bear retreating with a reluctance that startled me. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay close to the surface, close toher, and the effort it took to push him down left me shaking.
The woman was on the ground where she'd fallen when Rivik had barreled into Tarek. She was pushing herself up on her hands, her hair falling across her face, and I could see the trembling in her arms. The bandage on her thigh had come loose again and blood soaked through the strange fabric of her clothing. The sweet scent hit me full force now and I realised it was coming from the small female.
What is this? What is she?
I turned carefully, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening, and met her eyes for the first time.
They were wide and expressive, more grey than brown in the storm light, ringed with exhaustion but still alert. Still watching. She looked at me the way I imagined prey looked at predatorswary but not panicked, calculating her chances, refusing to show fear even though I could smell it on her skin.
And then she did something that shocked me more than anything else that had happened today.
She nodded at me. Just once. A gesture of acknowledgment. Maybe even thanks.
Then she turned away and limped toward the injured male, dropping to her knees beside him with a grimace of pain. I shook my head, admiring her strength. She was hurt, bleeding, exhausted, and she'd just turned her back on me to check on someone else.
Brave and selfless and foolish.
Rivik was speaking to the other male stranger. I caught fragments of their attempted communication, watched Rivik gesture and mime, trying to bridge the language gap. The stranger looked confused but not hostile, responding with his own gestures, pointing at his companions, at the forest, at the river.
My eyes kept drifting back to the female.
She was talking to the injured male now, her voice low and urgent, her hands gentle as she checked his leg. She was speaking to him, rapid and urgent, in a language I'd never heard. The sounds were strange, flowing together in ways that didn't match any tongue I knew. The affection between them was obvious and something hot and sharp twisted in my chest.
Jealousy.
I shoved it down, forced myself to focus. The injured male needed help. That was more important than whatever strange instinct was trying to claim this female as mine. I was a healer. I had a job to do.
I started toward them, but the female's head snapped up before I'd taken three steps. She watched me approach with those wide, expressive eyes, and I saw her body tense, sawher shift slightly to put herself between me and the injured male. Protecting him. The jealousy surged again. She should be protecting me, not some human. I shoved the thought away.
I stopped a few paces away and raised my hands slowly, trying to show I meant no harm. "I'm a healer," I said, knowing she wouldn't understand the words but hoping my tone would convey meaning. "I can help him."
She stared at me, and I could see her mind working, weighing the threat I posed against her companion's need. Then she said something in her own language, her voice rough with pain and exhaustion. When I didn't respond, she gestured emphatically at the injured male, then at me, then made a motion I thought might mean 'help.'
I nodded and stepped closer.
She let me approach, but she didn't move away. Just watched me with that same wary intensity as I knelt beside the injured male and carefully assessed his leg.
