Page 4

Kellan

I had shifted, somehow.

As I huddled in that patch of brush beside the highway, I struggled, shivering in the cold, trying to find my bear deep inside me. Was he even still there? I hadn’t heard him in so long, I wasn’t sure. And if he wasn’t willing or absent or wasn’t even there…what would I do?

I dug down deep, searching for the bear, hunting, begging, the old familiar voice, the warm rumble in my chest. None of that was there.

Two cars went by, and one turned into the parking lot while I flattened myself on the hard, cold ground, praying the twigs and leaves were concealing me. Headlights flashed in my eyes then darkness again. I couldn’t stay here much longer. Someone was going to notice my absence. Probably the person who activated the intercom. Sometimes I was summoned then left to sit for hours in the lab until they bothered to come in to torture me. Please let this be one of those times.

I strained and struggled, but no sense of my bear emerged. Nothing. More cars passed. Two more entered the lot. If nothing happened, I was going to have to run down the road in my boxers and hope someone not related to the lab picked me up. Someone not criminal. Omegas were often targeted by other kinds of evildoers.

How had I made it this far and ended up in a position not much better than where I started? Darkness overtook me, despair I’d always thought part of my captivity. In the ever-fading dreams of freedom, my emotions were that of joy and other positive things. Sinking into the grief and hopelessness, I prayed for death. At least if the goddess took me now, I’d die free. Right?

And then, from that blackness, the bear roared free. Unlike what I remembered of ordinary shifts, this one ripped into me, breaking bones and tearing skin as the larger animal replaced my two-legged form. And then we were racing across the highway, headed for a patch of woods a mile or two away. Not because I wanted to but because the bear was 100 percent in charge. He’d been suppressed for so long, not only couldn’t I blame him, but I welcomed his help in getting us as far away from the lab complex as possible.

The woods went on for a lot farther than I had anticipated, providing us not only shelter from the eyes of those who might be watching but also a source of food. I’d been hungry to a greater or lesser extent my entire imprisonment, and while there were no cheeseburgers to be found here, there were roots and grubs and the remains of last year’s berries. It wasn’t enough, but a stream provided fish, and as we gained strength, his ravenous appetite drove us to hunting deer. As if he’d been hibernating, he crossed the lands devouring anything he could, seeking to regain weight and reach his full strength.

As I’d grown thinner, it seemed he had as well, but while we’d hunted before, it had never been with such vicious precision. I tried to slow him down, fearing it might be too much, but if he heard my pleas, he did not respond to them.

Finally, we emerged from the forest into an area of open fields, and a farmhouse appeared on the horizon. A line of clothing hung near the back door, and I had long enough to wonder why they hadn’t been brought in before dark before lapsing into gratitude that they had not. Nearing the house, I attempted once again to shift.

It’s time. I can dress and approach the people at the house.

Why wasn’t he answering me? Was the bear so angry at me? Did he blame me for everything we’d gone through?

Was it my fault?

Considering how we’d been taken, it very well could be.

Please. You can do whatever you want, but we need to make contact with people. Farmers will not be associated with the lab.

Then, just as I thought he’d agreed, as we came within a dozen yards or so of the home, he veered off, crashing through the hedges and onward.

Where are you going? As if I expected an answer at this point. I had to let him go and trust he had our best interests at heart. For the first time in years, I wasn’t hungry, and apparently the lack of exercise my human form experienced did not affect his animal athleticism.

We ran on until even he slowed, lifting his nose and sniffing the air then making a turn and following his nose. Shifters. Other shifters. The bear knew his business. I could only hope he’d relinquish the body to me when we got wherever it was he was going.

If not, maybe someone there could help.