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Chapter Four

The Worst Mixtape Ever

Clover

Remote wasn’t exactly a unique concept in Sawtooth Forest, but these bears straight up brought me to the middle of nowhere. I’d lived in Idaho all my life, explored the land in my human and bear forms, and I had no idea where I was.

Not that I could see much from the inside of a tent. The naked dudes had brought me directly here, tied me to a chair, and left.

So they probably didn’t plan to hurt me. I could thank the moon for that. But that was only because they thought I had magic.

All bets were off when they found out the truth.

The tent flap opened, and an older woman came in with a jug. Very little light came with her. It had to be nighttime. The second night I was here.

I hadn’t slept, and it was already getting too easy to lose track of time.

She ripped the tape off my mouth. The sting of the raw skin made my eyes bulge, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of yelping at the sensation.

“You need to have some soup.” Everything about the woman with the ladle was soft and motherly, with her dress and hair pulled up in one of those effortless buns, and I wanted to believe her. My mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage, and the formerly polite rumbling in my tummy had become a full-on angry roar.

The soup smelled good. Better than good—delicious.

But she’d just ripped skin off my face.

I pressed my lips together as she brought the ladle to them and shook my head.

The soft woman frowned. “You need to keep your strength up, Clover.”

I had so many questions for her, but that would mean opening my mouth. Just because these bears wanted me strong and hadn’t hurt me—yet—didn’t mean that shit wasn’t laced with something that would have me talking to the big bear in the sky.

“You’re important to us, and we’re glad you’re here. I promise this will all make sense soon.” From the hushed tone of her voice, I had a feeling she was telling me more than she should. Which I appreciated, but it didn’t stop her from putting that awful tape back on my face.

A little bit of the soup stung the raw skin before it dribbled down my chin, onto my chest, joining what was left over from the last time they tried to force feed me.

I had to get out of here.

But how? A string of regrets played in my head like the worst mixtape ever. Like how I should’ve grabbed my phone before I got out of my car—not that I could use it with my hands tied behind my back, but eventually, I’d break free of these ropes. I’d been working on them before my fingers had gone numb. Or how I should’ve joined my sister Sage at the gym instead of hitting snooze repeatedly every morning. Her kickboxing moves would come in handy right now. But the track that played constantly on repeat was how I’d rejected my big, strong, stupidly gorgeous, perfect mate. Now I was spending entirely too much time fantasizing about Bellamy busting in here and coming to my rescue.

I was no damsel, and I didn’t need to be saved.

Yes, you absolutely do , my bear said.

There was no way that would happen, I wouldn’t admit how much I wanted it. Or him.

I pushed my bear’s voice and any thoughts of big, beautiful, bearded giants out of my head as I once again tried to shift. Cell phones and roundhouse kicks had nothing on sheer bear power.

But my body didn’t warm, my skin didn’t split, and my bear didn’t come.

Maybe that’s what the lady with the broth meant about keeping my strength up. She was giving me code for how to get the fuck out of here.

She thinks you have magic, my bear said. Like Nana.

This couldn’t just be over a locket, or magic. Every clan had a healer. It was not worth abducting someone over. I didn’t plan on sticking around to find out. But my numb fingers would barely move at this point, let alone untie a complicated series of knots.

The tent flap opened again, and this time, a much older woman entered. Small and wrinkled, almost like she’d shriveled, but there was no denying her power. It was a tangible thing. She flipped on a light.

Wait—this tent had electricity? Maybe this settlement wasn’t as rogue and transient as I thought.

If I were able to tear my gaze away from my guest, I’d get a better take on my surroundings. Even in the low light. I’d noticed crystals, dark pots that looked like cauldrons, and volumes and volumes of books. But they had nothing on my guest. Those eyes. They were pure bear. Clear and sharp and didn’t look like they belonged in that wizened body.

“If it isn’t the prodigal, wayward daughter of the Crowley Clan,” she said as she ripped the tape away from my face once again.

Up close and personal, the power was even more intense. I’d never felt anything like this before. Not even from my Nana.

“My name is Alba Lynwood.” She paused, as if she expected me to recognize her name. I didn’t. “As clan mystic, let me officially welcome you to our land.”

“Some welcome.”

“Ah, she’s still feisty.” She clicked her tongue, as if to scold me.

I was a grown-ass woman and I said what I said. She seemed to know much more about me than I did about her, which was dangerous. Normally I was proud of being the free spirit of my clan, the one who laughed in the face of tradition.

“Your spirited nature is nothing to be ashamed of,” she continued, like she had read my mind. “It’s one of the reasons you caught our attention. That, and of course, your ancestral talisman.”

I huffed out a sigh. “If I had any idea where that damned thing was, I’d tell you on the condition you’d let me out of here.”

Like it was that simple—I was deep in the forest, and there was no telling if my car had been left in the middle of that lonely country road. Or if someone had stolen it and was enjoying a shopping spree with my credit cards.

They won’t get much before they max out.

Not the time, bear.

“We think, once you know the truth about your lineage, that you may choose to stay,” Alba said as she circled me, inspecting me like I was the prized beast in some wildlife auction. “If you bring us to the talisman, we can give you its magic. You’ll be more powerful than you ever dared to dream.”

I laughed, and the old woman shot me a look that almost made me choke. The power that swirled between us would be a tangible thing, if I was able to reach out and touch it.

They knew I didn’t have the magic. And they hadn’t searched me for the locket. Then why were they holding me hostage?

“You have no idea who you are, do you?” It was Alba’s turn to laugh. “Your ancestors never told you.”

“I know exactly who I am. I’m a forty-year-old feral spinster with a pot belly, a shopping problem, and a healthy suspicion of authority. My pack has never forgiven me for rejecting my mate, and the only reason they didn’t toss me out on my ass after that stunt was because I’m Shirley Crowley’s granddaughter. Our pack healer, and the one with actual magic. But back to me. I’m tired, I’m hangry, I can’t feel my arms, and I can guarantee you, I won’t learn one single thing from this experience.”

“Sweet moon, you’re perfect.” Alba folded her hands together. Her entire being lit up like the electricity in the tent was coming from her.

“Perfect?” That was not an adjective that often got tossed in my direction. “Why don’t you tell me who I am since you know so much about me?”

“I can tell you what you don’t know.” Great. The old woman planned to keep speaking in riddles. “Your clan lied to you about your power because they wanted to keep you small. Told you that you needed to submit to an alpha. Let someone claim that wild spirit of yours. Keep it under wraps before you became too powerful to tame.”

My lips parted as I inhaled her allegation. She had to be working some sort of magic on me, telling me exactly what I’d longed to hear as a little girl.

But I’d never heard of this woman. There was no way she was so well-versed in the ways of my clan.

“That’s a lovely story, but I can assure you, every crystal in this room has more power than I do.”

She raised a thin brow. “Can you feel them?”

“Of course I can. But that’s their magic, not mine.”

“Oh, sweet child.” She picked up an impressive looking knife and sliced the ropes away from my wrists. “You don’t feel power that you don’t have. Those rocks are bringing it to life.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that wasn’t true. That every object on the earth had some sort of power, vibration?—

Then why don’t you? my bear asked.

Good question.

I sat in stunned silence. Free, but I didn’t run.

“Come.” She held out her hand. “Let me show you who you really are.”