So much for Collared Shifters practically living in cages. Shane ran free on Mount Charleston, and Cormac sailed to and from southern Mexico whenever he felt like it.
“We’re careful,” Nell said, noting Freya’s expression. “But we don’t let Shifter Bureau have it all their own way.”
Freya was beginning to understand that.
She’d never spent time with Shifters who weren’t half wild. While Nell, Brody, and Cormac ate heartily, as did all Shifters, they spoke to one another with fondness. Though they exchanged teasing banter, there was no constant argument.
Graham had always been growling at his seconds or at Lupines who came to him with some grievance or demand. They’d been respectful, but not friendly.
Freya thought about the sweet-voiced Misty. How did she fit into Graham’s brutal world?
Shane hadn’t returned by the time Freya finished the meal—or at least got it through to the bears that she was full. Whatever Eric had taken him to do kept him away.
Freya found herself craning to look out the window, trying to catch sight of him. Each time, she snapped herself back to the conversation. Why did she care what Shane was doing?
Her skin itched in a way that was starting to drive her crazy. The irritation wasn’t on the outside of her body, Freya realized when she rubbed her arms in annoyance. Something inside her burned, and she caught herself again and again watching for Shane’s return.
This had to stop.
The windows darkened with early nightfall, but Shane still hadn’t come home. Rain had begun late in the afternoon, and now it pattered steadily on the roof. Outside this snug house, the temperature dropped, the night chilling. Even the desert could be cold and dreary in January.
Freya gave up, told her hosts good-night, and went to bed.
Nell had fixed up Shane’s room for her, putting clean sheets on the mattress and setting out towels for her to use in the bathroom. Freya recalled Shane’s grin when he’d said My bed’s big, Freya. You’ll like it.
The bed was indeed huge, she saw when she entered, taking up most of the small bedroom. The mattress sagged a little, holding the impression of Shane. It also held his scent.
There had to be something wrong with her. Freya had often slept in beds previously inhabited by humans, closing her eyes, and ignoring the lingering stamp of them. Tonight, though, she tossed and turned, punching the pillows, and willing her body to cool.
Not used to the desert, she thought. She’d lived for the last two and more decades in northern California, with its rugged coast, high mountains, and swaths of woods among rolling hills. She was used to foggy hills, not flat, cold openness.
Her drained body at last dropped into slumber, but it wasn’t restful. Freya dreamed she was in wolf form, with Shane as bear chasing her through endless woods. Shane’s bear soon tackled her, easily taking her down. Instead of fighting him, as she’d done on the mountain, Freya rolled over and welcomed him.
In the dream, the wolf nipped at Shane and licked his muzzle, her tail wagging like a silly dog’s.
Shane gave a sudden snarl, and the grizzly grew into a massive monster, his body enveloping Freya’s. He’d swallow her whole, she thought in panic, and she struggled in earnest to get away. Shane laughed and held her harder, knowing she couldn’t break free.
Freya yelped and came awake, her own voice jerking her from sleep.
She dragged in a breath and hugged the covers to her, trying to stem her panic. The blankets smelled of Shane, which didn’t ease her rocketing heartbeat.
The door creaked open and faint light silhouetted Shane against the hallway beyond.
“Freya?” The question held nothing but concern. “You all right?”
Chapter Thirteen
Shane hovered in the doorway, waiting for Freya’s reply, barely keeping himself from rushing to her and gathering her into his arms.
Once Eric and Diego had finally finished picking his brain, Shane had returned home to find the house dark and silent. Bears went to sleep early in the winter.
He’d bunked down on the couch, very aware Freya was a short way down the hall in his bed, then had been jerked from his fitful sleep by Freya’s cry. Instantly he’d come to his feet, the blanket falling from his bare legs, and charged to his bedroom. At the last minute, he made himself stop and open the door without hurry.
“I’m fine,” Freya whispered. Her voice shook, and the dim light from the hall showed her clutching the covers like a cub seeking safety.
Shane closed the door but didn’t turn on the light. His Shifter sight let him see her perfectly fine in the dark.
He seated himself on the end of the bed, sensing that right now he needed to keep his distance.