Page 10 of The Alpha's Bounty
Silence.
Her breath goes shallow.“A what?”
“Shifter,” I repeat.“A bear shifter.I’m also the Alpha of the East Pack here in Night Grove Falls.”I tip my head toward the window.“This land has been ours for longer than any deed in City Hall states.”
She shakes her head once.Twice.“Shifters?None of that stuff is real.”
“It is.”
“You can’t—People can’t?—”
“Shift into something else?”I supply.“Some of us can.”
Mina surges to her feet as if the chair has suddenly sprouted teeth, but she doesn’t bolt.She just stares at me skeptically.“Prove it.”
My bear surges to his feet so fast that I sway.
Yes.Show.Now.
“Okay.But I’m going to set some rules.”
Her chin comes up.“Rules?”
“Stay by the table.I’m going to move the rug.There’s a… mess factor.”
Her mouth opens.Closes.“You do this in your living room?”
“I live here,” I remind her.“Where else would I do it?”
She snorts, and the sound loosens something in my chest.I roll the rug back and push the coffee table to the side, giving myself space.
“This won’t hurt you,” I say, meeting her eyes.“Iwon’t hurt you.If you want me to stop at any point, say my name.”
She nods, lips pressed together.
I take my shirt off because my mother raised me to be practical.She would smack me if I tore another flannel down the spine just to make a point.Boots, socks, and jeans are next.Mina’s eyes widen, then dart away.My skin heats, but not from modesty.Shifters don’t have much call for that.No, it’s becauseshelooked at me.My bear purrs as if she’s running a hand down his spine.
“Ready?”I ask.
She swallows.“No.”
I smile.“Honest.”
Then I let go.
Movies and books often portray shifting as screaming, bones breaking, and gore.It’s not that.It’s pressure and release, a thousand joints waking up to remember they belong in a different position.Muscles unbraiding and braiding.Breath flattening to a new rhythm.It’s a heartbeat that grows deeper and slower, drumming in a new chest.
It’s relief.
I land heavily on all fours, claws scraping lightly against the wood floor.The room expands and condenses all at once.Edges sharpen.Smells intensify.Mina’s scent is a full-body experience in this skin: a blend of sugar-tart, winter air, and rain after a drought.I rumble without meaning to, vibrating the picture frames.
Mina doesn’t scream.
She doesn’t run.
She lifts a hand.Not to touch, not yet.She holds it out as if testing the weight of reality in the space between us.
I lower my head.Careful.Careful.I’m bigger than the table now, bigger than anything she’s stood beside that wasn’t a truck or a building.I place my nose an inch from her palm.Warmth rolls off her.My bear closes his eyes.Ours.
