“So, I walked over there. I was going to stop them. I’m not typically into confrontation or fighting or anything like that. But, you know, I’m a grizzly shifter. So, I figured I could handle myself. I might seem like I’m this sensitive guy, but I wasn’t really afraid of them.”
He opened the fruit packet and took a bite of dried mango.
“I told them to stop. When they turned their attention to me, they let the little kid go, and he ran off. I figured it was all good, but they ganged up on me.”
Reed shook his head, the memory etched into his mind.
“I knew these kids knew I was a shifter. Trying to fight me was kind of dumb. I guess they figured I wouldn’t shift and attack them. I had kind of a reputation for being a nerd.”
Siren watched him intently, letting him finish his story without interrupting.
“They started to throw punches, and I took a few hits. Then I tripped and fell on a rock and hit my head. The pain was intense and something snapped inside me. These kids started to kick me when I was down and injured and my grizzly burst out of my skin.”
Reed sighed heavily, looking up at the sky. He rarely talked about this issue or what had caused it. It felt both cathartic and overwhelming to share so much of himself. But Siren was his mate. And for some reason, he couldn’t hold himself back.
“I swatted at the kids. I knocked one of them down and he broke his elbow. The others ran off, and I started chasing them. If Shane hadn’t come running out of the diner and stopped me in my tracks, I don’t know what I would have done to them. I wasn’t in control. Shane calmed me down, and I was finally able to shift back.”
Reed went quiet, thinking of how humiliating it had been.
“At home that night, I laid in my bed trying to relax. But I remembered something I’d probably suppressed for a long time. When I was really little, like four years old. I’d been out in the backyard…”
He took a ragged breath. This was the memory that really cut to the core. It was almost too difficult to talk about out loud.
“This massive dog came rushing out of the forest. I don’t know what type of dog it was. Some kind of cross breed. But it was huge. It just came running straight at me.”
He could still see its massive jaws and wiry fur. He could still feel the fear.
“I’d been playing with my action figures, and I didn’t even notice it until it was right on me. It jumped on top of me and bit my arm. I shifted in that instant and bit that dog. I can still taste its blood on my tongue.”
Siren’s face was cast in shadows. Her eyes steady, her expression unreadable. “I couldn’t remember what happened after that. But over the years, I realized I must have killed it. I asked my dad about it, and he told me that it was fine. But I could tell from the sound of his voice that it wasn’t.”
Reed trailed off, his voice shaky. Stress pumped in his veins, and he felt it in his fingertips. Siren was quiet, watching him without a shred of judgment in her eyes.
“You have no reason to feel guilty. You had to defend yourself.”
“I know that intellectually, of course. But the fear and shame remain. That fear response hasn’t happened in years. I had my shift under control for the most part. But a gunfight and shifting trauma don’t mix well.”
She raised an eyebrow and let out what could only be described as a chuckle. “I can help you train your nervous system to resist the stress response.”
“It’s fine. I have it under control.”
“It’s not a request. You didn’t get yourself killed today. And you inadvertently helped to a degree. But losing control of your shift is a liability. I can’t allow it to happen again.”
Reed felt chastened, embarrassed. His cheeks burned and he wanted to go hide in the tent. “I’m not trying to criticize you, Reed. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Yeah. No. It’s fine. I get it,” he blurted out.
He’d just shared his deepest darkest secret and now she wanted to give him combat training or something. He knew he shouldn’t be offended. But part of him felt weak under her scrutinizing gaze.
“When you were in danger today…” her voice cracked. “I can’t allow that to happen again, Reed.”
He loved the sound of his name on her lips. The tone of her voice told him she cared. He instantly felt less offended and saw her offer of training for what it really was.
“You’re right. I could use your help. I don’t want to put either of us in danger or to jeopardize your mission.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she said yawning. “I really need to sleep. Usually, I would keep watch but I’m wounded, so I’m going to take a chance tonight. I have some motion sensors I’ll set up around camp that will alert us if anything human size approaches within one hundred meters.”
She unpacked a kit from her gear and began to place the devices at intervals around the campsite.
