Page 62 of The Last Sanctuary

But no. The sounds were wrong.

Several heavy, shuffling steps. A loud snuffling sound.

A larger dark shape reared out of the murk behind Damien.

Damien whirled in alarm. His gun hand rose.

“Don’t shoot!” Raven lunged forward. With her free hand, she grasped the barrel of Damien’s gun and slapped it down.

Damien shot her a horrified look. “What are you doing?—!”

“Stay still, and he won’t hurt you.”

“What—?” And then Damien saw it, too.

An enormous black bear emerged from the thick fog, not twenty feet away.

Damien made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

Kodiak lumbered toward them, his huge head low. He sniffed hungrily at the bushes along the path, searching for potentialdinner. His fur was thick and black but for the white star-shaped patch between his eyes.

About ten feet away, the big bear hesitated. He looked at them curiously, his head swinging from Damien to Raven.

“Don’t move,” she murmured. “He’s more curious than anything.”

To Damien’s credit, he didn’t move a single muscle. He probably stopped breathing, too. His face was so pale, his freckles stood out like drops of blood.

Haven’s black bears were big, lazy oafs. They could cause harm, sure. They weighed three hundred pounds and had teeth and claws, but they were not aggressive. Not if you knew what you were doing.

“There’s no food here for you, Kodiak,” she said calmly. “The exit you want is back the way you came. The woods are full of the food you want.”

Kodiak snuffled. He lumbered straight at them. The huge black shape passed not five feet from where she and Damien stood. The sour dankness of his fur filled her nostrils. He was so close, she could’ve counted the thick coarse hairs of his pelt.

The bear ambled past them. His mouth agape, Damien turned and stared after the black bear until he vanished into the fog. Damien turned back to Raven with a look of absolute awe. “I thought for sure he was gonna eat us.”

“Most animals aren’t a threat to humans unless the humans are a threat first.”

He ran his hands through his hair and took a steadying breath. His gaze fell to Rex’s body. “I have to go back and alert Vaughn and Dekker.”

Of course. His first loyalty was still to his uncle. Raven had her loyalties, too. Her responsibilities. She’d dallied here for far too long. Every second she stood here with him increased the chance of discovery.

Squatting, she set down the rifle just long enough to shoulder her backpack and seize the whittling knife. Retrieving the rifle with one hand, she stood and wiped the knife clean on her pants with her other hand, then closed it and stuffed it in her pocket.

Part of her never wanted to lay eyes on the blade again. Part of her couldn’t bear to leave it behind. The whittling knife was her mother’s last gift to her.

Besides, it had saved her life. Perhaps, it might again. She started up the flagstone path. “I need to go.”

Damien swiftly crossed the space between them and seized her arm. “Wait.”

His touch shuddered up her arm. Alarm buzzed through her blood. But also, something else. Something she couldn’t name. It turned her stomach inside out. Her skin felt too tight, the air too dense. “Let go!”

He was stronger than she was. He could have forced her to do whatever he wanted, but he didn’t. Frowning, he released her arm. “Sorry.”

“I just—I don’t like to be touched.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Just don’t go yet.”

“What do you want?” Her voice came out harsh. She rubbed her arm with her free hand. His touch had surprised her, set her even further on edge.