The journey to Marion’s house was a blur.
Alfie’s bear paced anxiously within him, claws scraping against his consciousness with each passing second.
They both knew how fragile Charlie’s progress had been, how much the boy had opened up in recent days, and how quickly that progress could be ripped away.
The thought of him alone and upset made Alfie press harder on the accelerator.
When he pulled into Marion’s driveway, the first thing he noticed was the unfamiliar car parked haphazardly behind his mate’s car.
His bear’s hackles rose immediately. That’s her, his bear growled. The one who hurt our cub.
Alfie took a steadying breath as he climbed out of his truck. Let’s not make things worse.
How could they be worse? His bear moaned like a wounded animal.
Let’s not try to find out, Alfie said as he walked toward the house.
Through the screen door, he could see Marion sitting on the couch, her arm around a blonde woman who was sobbing into her hands. The family resemblance was unmistakable, the same heart-shaped face, the same slope of the nose, although Heather’s features were sharper, harder somehow.
His bear snarled in disgust. How could a mother abandon her child for a man who hurt him? The very concept was anathema to his bear’s protective instincts.
Marion looked up, relief flooding her face as she spotted him through the door. “Alfie,” she called, her voice breaking with emotion.
He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to absorb her fear and replace it with his strength. But that wasn’t what she needed right now. It wasn’t the reason she had called and asked for his help.
Every moment Charlie was missing was another moment he might be in danger. And Alfie was the one person who might be able to find Charlie because he had super senses.
“Where did you see him last?” Alfie asked, getting straight to business as he entered the house.
Marion disengaged from her sister and stood. “The backyard. He was looking at bugs with his magnifying glass.”
Without another word, Alfie strode through the house, Marion close behind him. He could feel Heather watching them, but he didn’t spare her another glance. His focus was entirely on finding Charlie.
We know he’s not here, his bear said impatiently as they stepped into the yard.
Patience. Alfie closed his eyes, pushing out his senses in a way unique to shifters.
He searched for that spark of connection he’d formed with Charlie, but there was nothing.
Their connection was not as strong as the one he shared with Marion.
He could find her in a crowd a mile away…
But Charlie was not in the immediate vicinity and his presence was lost among the other folks of Bear Creek.
“Do you know where he is?” Marion asked quietly, glancing over her shoulder to ensure Heather hadn’t followed them outside.
“I can’t sense him,” Alfie admitted, then lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “But I can scent him.”
Marion’s eyebrow arched skeptically. “You can smell him?”
“All my senses are heightened,” Alfie explained. “And since the trail is fresh, I should be able to follow it.”
Marion’s face paled suddenly. “Is he alone?”
Alfie took another deep breath, filtering out the neighborhood smells—the barbecue three houses down, the freshly cut grass next door, the lavender in Marion’s garden. There—Charlie’s scent. Untainted by any other human presence.
“Yes,” Alfie confirmed, closing the distance between them to pull Marion into his arms. “I will find him, I promise.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to her cheek.
“As a bear or a man?” she whispered against his ear, her breath warm on his skin.
“A man,” Alfie replied reluctantly, letting her go. “It’s too busy on the streets for my bear.”
Even in a town like Bear Creek, where shifters were common, folks would panic at the sight of a bear loping down the sidewalk in broad daylight. And Charlie still had no idea about shifters. The poor kid had been traumatized enough without a bear encounter.
Maybe he would like a bear encounter, his bear countered hopefully.
Not today, Alfie replied.
“What do I do?” Marion asked, her hands twisting together anxiously.
Alfie was already heading back toward the street, Charlie’s scent pulling him forward like an invisible thread. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll let you know where he is.”
He nodded briefly at Heather as he jogged past her on the porch, ignoring her startled expression. Skirting around his truck, he set off down the street, his focus narrowing to the invisible trail only he could detect.
Charlie’s scent led him past the neighbor’s house, around the corner, and down the street toward the small park three blocks away. The boy had been moving quickly at first. Almost running, Alfie guessed from the spacing of the scent markers but had slowed as he approached the park.
Alfie pulled out his phone, sending Marion a quick text: Heading to Maple Street Park. He’s on foot.
The park came into view, a modest green space with swings, a slide, and a small wooded area in the back. Charlie’s scent veered away from the playground, where a few children were playing under parental supervision, and toward the trees instead.
Smart kid, Alfie thought. Charlie had sought solitude, not wanting to be found or questioned by well-meaning adults.
The scent grew stronger as Alfie approached the tree line. He slowed his pace, not wanting to startle the boy if he was hiding nearby. The last thing he needed was for Charlie to bolt deeper into the woods in fear.
We would find him, Alfie’s bear said.
But it would be better if this did not become a hunt, Alfie told his bear.
There, his bear said. He’s in that tree.
I see him, Alfie said, relief making his stomach twist.
“Charlie?” he called softly, just loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to carry to the playground. “It’s Alfie. Are you in there, buddy?”
Of course, Alfie knew he was there. But he wanted Charlie to answer, to want to be found.
“Alfie?” Charlie said in a small voice from a low branch.
“Hey,” Alfie said, relief washing through him. “That’s quite a climbing spot you found.”
Charlie didn’t respond, just hugged his knees tighter.
“Mind if I join you?” Alfie asked, already reaching for a low branch.
Charlie shrugged, which Alfie took as permission. He climbed easily, his shifter strength and agility making short work of the ascent. He settled on the branch next to Charlie, letting his legs dangle in the air.
“Your aunt is really worried about you,” Alfie said after a moment of silence.
Charlie stared down at his feet, his small legs swinging in the air. “I didn’t mean to worry her,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I know, buddy.” Alfie kept his tone gentle, giving the boy space to open up. “Sometimes we just need to get away and think.”
Charlie nodded, picking at the bark with his fingers. “I wanted to go to the garden center and look at the butterflies,” he admitted. “It’s peaceful there.”
Alfie nodded, understanding dawning. “You know you shouldn’t go off alone. And you should always tell your aunt where you are.”
Charlie sighed, his shoulders slumping. “She was arguing with my mom.”
“Ah,” Alfie said, the simple syllable conveying his understanding.
“My mom wants to take me away.” Charlie looked up at Alfie, his eyes wide with worry. “But I like it here.”
“I do, too,” Alfie agreed, feeling a tingle at the base of his spine as he sensed Marion and Heather approaching.
His bear stirred within him, alert and protective. They must have driven here, his bear observed.
“I want to learn about the bugs and the plants and see wolves and bears,” Charlie continued, his words tumbling out faster now. “I don’t want to go back to the city. There was no backyard. No flowers.”
“Hey,” Alfie said, putting his arm around Charlie and hugging him close. The boy’s small body felt fragile against his side, but there was strength there, too.
And resilience, his bear added.
“And I don’t like it when Aunt Marion cries,” Charlie added, his voice breaking. “She is happy here, too.”
“I am,” Marion’s voice called from below them.
Charlie stiffened in Alfie’s embrace. “Aunt Marion,” he whispered, guilt washing over his face. “I’m sorry.”
“And I am sorry, too,” she said, her face tilted up toward them, tears glistening on her cheeks. “I should have woken you up when your mom came to visit this morning.”
Alfie held Charlie’s hands and carefully lowered him into his aunt’s waiting arms. She caught him easily, pulling him tight against her chest.
“I was so worried about you,” she murmured into his hair, holding him tight.
Heather stepped forward hesitantly, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “And I shouldn’t have come by unannounced and made demands without asking you what you wanted to do, Charlie bear,” she said.
“Mom.” Charlie reached out one arm while keeping the other wrapped firmly around Marion. Heather stepped forward, and for a moment, the three of them stood locked together, a tangle of arms and tears, and whispered apologies.
This is how it should be, his bear said, grudgingly ready to forgive Heather if she did the right thing by Charlie now.
“Does that mean I can stay in Bear Creek?” Charlie asked, pulling back just enough to look between the two women.
“If that’s what you want,” Heather said. She glanced at Alfie, something like respect flickering across her face. “I can see that you have good people here who care for you and your aunt.”
Charlie’s face lit up with hope. “Really? You mean it?”
Heather nodded, though Alfie could see the pain it cost her. “I do. Your happiness matters more than anything, Charlie bear. I see that now.”
Marion looked at her sister with surprise and open gratitude. “Thank you, Heather.”
Alfie climbed down from the tree, giving the family their moment while remaining close enough to offer support if needed. His bear paced contentedly within him, pleased that the situation had been resolved peacefully.
“Maybe,” Marion suggested cautiously, “we could all have dinner together tonight? Talk about how we might make this work?”
Heather wiped her eyes and nodded. “I’d like that. Very much.”
Charlie looked between his mother and aunt, then up at Alfie. “Can Alfie come, too?” he asked.
Marion’s eyes met Alfie’s over Charlie’s head, a silent question in them. Alfie nodded slightly, letting her know he was there for whatever she needed.
“Of course, Alfie can come,” Marion said with a small smile playing on her lips.
“Great!” Charlie exclaimed, his earlier distress seemingly forgotten in the way only children can manage. “And maybe tomorrow we can all go to the garden center and see the butterflies?”
Alfie chuckled, ruffling Charlie’s hair. “The butterflies will definitely still be there tomorrow.”
As they walked back toward the car, Charlie skipped ahead, telling his mom about the butterflies and his bug house. Marion fell into step beside Alfie, her hand finding his and squeezing gently.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For finding him. For being here.”
Alfie squeezed back and looked down at her. “Always,” he promised.
“And forever?” she asked.
“And forever,” he replied and sucked in a deep breath. “I think everything is going to come up roses.”
“I’d like you to lay me down in a bed of roses,” she whispered in his ear.
“I can see this really is a budding romance.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and held her close.
“Then it’s a good thing I have decided Bear Creek is definitely the place Charlie and I are going to set down roots,” Marion countered.
“And I am going to help you bloom,” Alfie said, cupping her face in his hands before he lowered her head and kissed her.
“You know my love for you is growing like a weed,” she murmured as their kiss broke.
Alfie shook his head and laughed. “This mate bloomer loves you, too. Very much.”
“Enough with the plant puns?” Marion asked.
“I think so,” Alfie said and took her hand. “Let’s go home.”
Because home is where the heart is, his bear said happily.