Page 18 of Roaring Heat
The air behind me shifts. A ripple of pressure brushes across my back, subtle but distinct, like stepping into the wake of something massive that moved just out of sight. The sensation spreads across my shoulders, sinking into my spine. It's not wind, not temperature. It's a disturbance, like the forest itself inhaled and is holding that breath, waiting for something I can’t name. My pulse stutters in response. I turn slowly, a growing awareness blooming in my chest that whatever presence I felt before hasn’t left. It has drawn closer. It feels like I stepped through an invisible curtain. The EM meter in my pocket flares to life, chirping wildly.
Whatever I’m studying out here isn’t just geological or biological. It’s as if it's something more. Something alive with purpose all its own, thrumming with an energy that feels too deliberate, too tuned to me to be random. My chest tightens with a mix of awe and dread, the kind that roots you in place even as your instincts scream to run. I don’t know why I’m drawn to it. I only know that I am, helplessly and completely.
It feels as if the forest has cracked open some hidden threshold I never meant to approach, and now something ancient is staring back through the veil. This isn’t just erratic wildlife behavior. It’s something larger, more deliberate. Something that hums beneath my skin and whispers that I’ve stumbled into a truth I’m not yet equipped to face.
I turn away, but glance back over my shoulder one last time. The forest feels thick with presence, like it’s waiting for something to happen. I know I’m not alone. Not anymore. Not in this place.
CHAPTER 9
BEAU
The forest doesn’t breathe again after she leaves. It holds its silence like a secret, like a warning. I stay back just long enough to make sure she’s headed down the trail without looking over her shoulder, but the second she disappears into the trees, I drop the pretense and move.
The tension crawling under my skin hasn’t eased since the moment I felt the pulse hit her. It wasn’t just a ripple beneath my boots. It was as if a live current slammed through my spine. My shoulders lock. My breath catches hard in my lungs. For one raw, disorienting second, I feel the earth responding to something I can’t name. Energy like that doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It reacts. And it reacted to her. The land doesn’t answer like that unless it’s personal. Whatever force surged through the clearing earlier wasn’t some random flare. It was because of her. And something else that had been watching.
I track her path quickly and quietly, slipping through the thickest patches of shadow like the forest itself is helping me move unseen. Every step she takes drags my focus tighter. She doesn't sense the danger lurking at the edges of the clearing. She doesn’t know the rhythm of the earth has buckled. The pulse I felt earlier hasn’t faded; it’s turned razor-edged. And whateverit is, it’s circling. She’s out here alone with something I haven’t been able to identify yet, and I’ll be damned if I let it reach her before I do.
A soft tremor ripples through the earth beneath my boots, faint but undeniable. I stop in my tracks and brace, knees slightly bent, eyes narrowing as I scan the shadowed ridgeline for movement or sound.
A moment later, I hear it. Branches snapping in a rhythm too fast and deliberate to be natural, as if something massive and wild is crashing through the forest with deadly intent.
A branch snaps in the distance, sharp and sudden. Another follows, closer this time. Then comes a low rumble, deep and resonant, like thunder rolling across the forest floor. It's the unmistakable drumming of hooves bearing down fast.
"Shit."
I break into a run, heart slamming in my chest, muscles wound tight as the crashing thunder of hooves barrels closer. The underbrush tears at my legs. Adrenaline blurs the edges of my vision, but I don’t stop. Not when the sound behind me builds to something monstrous.
It comes like a landslide. A deep, resonant pounding that swells into the kind of roar you feel in your ribs before you hear it with your ears. The herd breaks through the ridgeline above town, too close, too fast, moving like they’re being hunted.
Elk don’t charge like this without a cause. Something has driven them into a frenzy. It's more than a reaction to a predator, more than instinct. The herd is terrified, fleeing from a threat I haven’t seen yet but can feel pulsing in the air like a storm about to break. The unnatural surge in their movement sends warning signals racing up my spine, each hoofbeat echoing louder than the last.
I skid to a halt at the edge of the trees, heart hammering, and catch sight of Anabeth just a hundred yards ahead. She’s makingher way back toward the path, her bag slung over one shoulder, head tilted down as she rifles through something, completely unaware of what's behind her. The sun cuts slants through the branches overhead, casting light across her hair. For one gut-twisting second, I see her not as she is, but as she might be—hurt, broken, lost. If I don’t reach her in time, I may never get the chance to see her whole again.
She’s too distracted to notice the pounding chaos behind her. I shout her name as loud as I can. She spins around.Her eyes go wide at the same moment the first few elk crash through the underbrush.
There’s no time. I throw myself forward, tearing my clothes off and covering the distance in seconds. She freezes for half a breath, then bolts toward me, but it's not fast enough. My heart slams against my ribs, fear clawing at my throat. The sight of her running straight into the path of a stampede makes my chest tighten. I push harder, adrenaline burning like wildfire in my veins, but it feels like I’m chasing time I can’t outrun. Not for what's coming.
"Get down!"
I don’t wait for her to obey. I hurl myself into her path and slam into her, twisting midair so she hits the ground beneath me with a thud that rattles my bones. The impact jars us both, but I keep her pinned, trying to shield every inch of her with my own body. Her breath rushes out in a gasp beneath me.
The earth trembles with approaching hooves, each beat a countdown I can’t stop. The herd isn’t slowing. They’re moving like a freight train with no brakes. One stray hoof, one wrong angle, and she won’t survive it. My arms cage around her. My body locks tight. It still won’t be enough.
My hands dig into the dirt on either side of her, grounding me against the chaos pounding through my skull. My heart jackhammers in my chest, straining against a cage of panic andpure, blistering intent. I don't think. I don’t plan. Something deeper takes over—a primal need carved from bone and blood, surging with one unrelenting truth. I won’t lose her. Not like this. Not now.
Mist coils and erupts from the forest floor, thick and fast, rising like steam from boiling water. It engulfs me in seconds, heat buzzing through my blood, vision swimming as the world blurs at the edges. The ground feels like it's vibrating under my knees, humming with ancient power. I suck in a breath that tastes like metal and rain, and the sound of pounding hooves fades beneath the roar building in my head.
It surges up my spine, swallowing me in a rush of heat and light as the world slips sideways. Muscles stretch, bones dissolve into something deeper. The air tastes like earth and adrenaline. The sounds of the forest sharpen. And when the mist falls away, I am no longer crouched over her as a man.
I am what I truly am.
My bear rises, erupting from the deepest part of me with a force that steals the breath from my lungs. My pulse spikes. The adrenaline doesn’t dull. It spikes with razor precision, igniting every muscle into action. My thoughts fragment as instinct floods in, and the fear that twisted my gut vanishes beneath something ancient, something powerful. I don’t fight the transformation. I give in to it because she needs the part of me strong enough to stand between her and the stampede.
A grizzly, immense and elemental, rises from the mist with muscle taut and eyes gleaming. Power thrums beneath thick fur, every nerve strung tight, awareness razor-sharp. My paws crush the earth with purpose as I take in everything: the movement of elk, the snap of branches, the razor-thin boundary between her safety and chaos. I brace myself, ready to become the line that holds it all at bay.
The elk skid to a halt, hooves gouging into the soft earth. I surge upward, front paws raised, and unleash a roar that rips through the clearing like a cannon blast. Trees tremble. Birds take flight. The force of it echoes off the ridgeline, a primal warning that demands submission. The ground quakes beneath the weight of my fury. The herd reacts instantly, their tightly packed mass veering as one.
Panic fractures their momentum. They split around us in a tide of muscle and panic, redirected by the sheer dominance of a predator none of them expected to face head-on.They veer off, thundering around us in a chaotic swirl of muscle and instinct, kicking up leaves and branches. One brushes close enough for me to feel the heat of its flank, but I plant myself between it and her, immovable.
