Page 7 of Wandering Witch

“Are you okay, little female? It was not my intention to continue to frighten you. I only wished to be able to communicate with you, my fair one.” His voice rumbled like a spine-tingling mixture of soft thunder and low growls.

With what could only be described as extremely slow and cautious movements, he reached down and gently took my small hand in his much larger ones. My trembling continued as he pulled me upright and carefully hooked an arm around my shoulders to help lead me to my feet.

“P-please don’t eat me,” I pleaded as I lock my gaze on his soft mouth, terrified to make eye contact with this predator.

“As tempting as that offer sounds, I find that I am greatly displeased with the taste of your fear. Perhaps at a later time when you are more comfortable in my presence, we can revisit this possibility.” His voice took on a playful quality and I wasn’t sure just what exactly he was hinting at. “For now, however, come back inside with me. It is not safe in these woods for something so soft and fragile. While I may have cleared the area of predators, it would not take very much at all for them to come seeking your delightful scent.”

I pulled myself out of his embrace and started to back away again. Before I could take more than a single step from his side, he looped his arm back around me and pulled me flush against him.

Locke

Finally, I had my little female in my arms, and she was even softer than when I pillowed my head on her last night. An even bigger relief came in the form that her scent was gradually changing from fear to simply unease.

“I do suppose that it would be surprising to find an animal that can take on man’s form. I do not blame you for being terrified of that.” I mused aloud as we walked back into the old cannery.

“Uh,” she began, stumbling over her words. “I’m actually not that surprised so much that you’re a shifter. I’ve traveled my whole life and have come across many shifters before, but, um, I’ve never, uh, seen anything like you.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that little one?” I was curious indeed as we returned to the room she’d claimed the eve before. She waited until I had her settled back in her nest before answering my question while I took my place at the door.

“Well, um, what are you asking me about?”

“What is it about me specifically that you find so unusual?” Fear of my own fluttered in my heart. Did she have an issue with bears in general? Or could she be disgusted at my bear in particular? I knew hybrids like me were rare and feared by the locals. Even more so, other bears of either side of my blood loathed my mere existence. For some reason, her opinion meant so much more to me than any other being before.

“Oh, that. Well, first of all, I don’t think I’ve ever come across your species before. If you don’t mind me asking, just what kind of bear are you?” Her voice was still a little shaky but held a firmness that told me she could possibly find comfort in my presence with enough time.

“Hmm? I am unaware if humankind has decided upon a name for what I am. However, my mother was a mighty polar from the ice caps much further north of us.” I puffed up my chest in memory of my fallen mother. She was a powerful beast, and all feared the merest idea that she could catch their scents.

“What about your father? I’ve seen plenty of pictures of polar bears before, but not a single one had fur like yours.”

“Mother once told me he was a great warrior who claimed to come from somewhere so warm that snow never fell. He was a shapeshifter who first appeared to her as a simple fox.” I paused as I thought back to my cubhood. When I was told what my father was, I was excited and thought it meant I had inherited his amazing power, but alas. “Eventually, he realized that his mate had no interest in such a tiny male, so he scoured the forest until he came across a clan of grizzlies and learned their form. As a result of their union, I was born as a hybrid of their bears with the only real gift from my father being my extended life.”

She closed her eyes as her posture took on a contemplative form.

“Interesting.” She mused. “Very interesting. I’ve also heard of shapeshifters, but from those that I’ve had a chance to talk with, they don’t live any longer than a normal shifter. How strange.”

I kicked a foot up to rest on the wall behind me as I studied her. “Though, if we are talking about ourselves, tell me about you,” I commanded as I crossed my arms in front of me.

“And why the hell should I do that?” she snarked. A grin crept over my face as I watched her indignant sulk at being commanded.

We waited each other out, curious to see which one of us would break the silence first and surrender their position. Clearly, the little female was not a hunter, for her patience ran out well before my own could.

“Argh, fine! You win. My name is Farren, though you can call me Fare. I am a powerful witch with the power to wipe entire cities clean off maps.” Though the tilt of her head said she was proud, almost haughtily so, of her strength. Her eyes held a shadow that spoke otherwise. “And you are?”

My grin froze on my face as she turned the tables on me. I cast my memory back as far as it would go. What was my name? Did I ever receive one? I had been isolated for so long that I had to wonder if whatever name I once may have held even mattered anymore.

“It would appear that if I ever was named, what it could have been has escaped me.” I hummed and threw my gaze around the room as I thought what would befit a warrior such as myself. A faded map on the far wall caught my eye as a name came to mind. “Yes, I suppose that will do just fine. You may call me Portlock. What better way for us to always remember the day we met than to take that as my name? It is the most perfect ideal way to honor my most beautiful mate.”

Farren

My hearing had to be going. That was the only thing that could explain what I just heard. There was absolutely no way that this shifter just called me his mate.

Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope. This really can’t be happening to me. The thoughts rattled around in my head as I tried to sort them out.

I had sworn to myself that my curse would end with me. I was the last of my line, there was no one else in my accursed family but me, and I made a lot of effort to leave as little of myself as possible to be missed. I never wanted to hurt innocent people, whether it was because my curse caught up with me and tore down the towns I was in; or even in the worst possible scenario that I would be unable to flee in time and be stolen away.

A mate was the absolute last thing I needed. The mere idea of having to either leave someone alone someday or worse drag them into the darkness with me.

I had become so lost in my own thoughts that he had the chance to close in on me and take my hands in his without me noticing.

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