More than that, I was pissed.
Leif was a lost cause. He couldn’t even remember how to turn human anymore. I thought of his hands, still more bear than human, as they’d moved over my skin, trying to get me into position to mate. The gouges he’d left on my skin were from claws.
I’d tried speaking to him, and gotten nothing in return.
I’d have to head home. I had a satellite phone with me and could call Mikkel back from McMurdough. He’d come get me, and then we’d have to figure out something about my heat, somehow. There had to be a solution.
It was obvious I couldn’t stay here.
I began to roll up my torn sleeping bag while I waited for my coffee to brew, dashing frustrated tears from my cold-chapped cheeks. I wasn’t crying out of fear, but out of unhappiness. I’d pinned all of my hopes in the last month on finding Leif, who I’d remembered as quiet, gentle, and artistic. Sweet and loving and kind.
That wasn’t the man I’d ran into last night. And I didn’t want to see that feral man-monster again. I’d just have to go home and figure out what to do, I told myself as I crammed my sleeping bag into a tattered roll. I’d talk with my dad, see what advice he could give.
See who wants to take one for the team.
I shuddered at the memory…and stopped.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
I was stuck.
I wanted my first time to be special. With someone that cared about me and I cared about. Someone that was devoted to me, not just servicing me for the clan’s sake. Someone who didn’t see me as a free lay just because the clan didn’t know what to do with me, but wanted to make sure the baby I had was were-bear.
I hesitated…and unrolled my torn bag. I had to stay. I couldn’t give up on Leif this easily. Even if he frightened me, he’d been half human last night.
I just needed to coax that half to the forefront.
As if my thoughts could summon him to the forefront, I saw the massive bulk of a grizzly bear in the distance. It was heading toward my camp, loping forward through the snow.
I stood, tightening my clothing on my body. It was bitterly cold this morning, but the air was still and dry, with little to no breeze.
As I watched, the bear approached until he got to about fifty feet away. Then, he crouched, stared at me for a long, long moment, and hunched over. Long, tangled brown hair sprouted from his thick neck ruff and I watched his body begin to shift to human.
He was changing.
Surprised, I averted my gaze to give him some privacy. Of all the things I expected to see this morning, this wasn’t it. After last night’s botched mating, I’d expected to have to coax him back out of hiding again.
But here he was, approaching me. Trying to change to human.
It was hard not to feel a bit of hope at that. Maybe this crazy idea would work after all.
When I heard the sound of a footstep crunching on snow, I looked up at Leif again.
He was standing, body erect, and staring down at his spread hands as if they were foreign to him. His fingers were still tipped with claws and furred, but that wasn’t surprising - fingers were always the last things to change and control. As I watched, he raised a hand to his face and touched it - and I noticed his nose was still rather snout-like.
“You probably want to fix that,” I called out helpfully, and gestured at my own face.
He looked over at me, startled, and closed his eyes, concentrating. I watched his skin ripple as he tried to control his shifting. It was clearly a strain for him - I could see a fine sweat on his naked, filthy body.
And I couldn’t help but stare.
Leif was really, really naked. And under all the dirt? Really handsome. I was surprised, though I don’t know why. I guess I’d expected him to be more world-weary and worn, but he was tanned and wiry, his muscles ropy and taut under his skin. If he was a little too skinny, I attributed it to his hard lifestyle of living as a wild animal. His face was covered with a bushy brown beard that jutted several inches from his jaw, and his hair hung in long, matted tangles down to his buttocks. His hips were slim and I averted my gaze when I noticed he had a rather thick - and erect - hard on. I focused instead on his eyes, bright blue in his darkly tanned face.
His nose and fingers were now human, I noticed, and he was carefully touching his face as if to make sure it was. When he was satisfied with what his fingers found, he looked over at me again.
“Hi,” I said softly. I didn’t move. My small fire was between the two of us, and I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d try if I let him get too close. Last night’s attack was still weighing heavily in my mind.
His jaw worked for a moment, he blinked, and then coughed out a “Hi,” back to me.
I smiled, pleased to hear his voice. “You forget how to talk?”
He swallowed hard, grimaced, and dropped to a low crouch again, as if standing erect was hard on him. “Been….awhile.”
“I understand. You need me to give you a moment?”
He shook his head, that long, tangled hair swaying. “I… fine.”
“Okay.” I didn’t move, though. I just dropped into a low crouch, my legs clamped tightly together to tamp down some of the smell of my body. After a moment, I blurted, “You going to attack me again?”
Leif shook his head again, this time savagely. “Lost… control. Came to apologize. Was…not myself.” He looked so disgusted with himself that I couldn’t stifle a smile.
“I noticed,” I said, my tone wry. In truth, I was glad to hear him admit that. If he hadn’t realized his reaction was inappropriate, I’d have been worried. I didn’t mention that my oncoming heat was the reason he’d attacked me.
I didn’t want him to turn and run away all over again once he found out my true intentions. Hi, I’m here to make a baby with you. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go over so well.
“You’re a bear shifter?” He asked, his voice still slow and creaky, as if he’d forgotten how to speak and the memory was slow to return.
I frowned at that. “You don’t remember me?”
He shook his head, his blue-eyed gaze glassy. He shifted on his bare feet in the snow, and I realized he was probably cold. The Antarctic weather was bitter, even for a shifter. I stood slowly and reached for my torn sleeping bag, then tossed it to him.
Leif watched it roll to his feet, his thick brows wrinkling as he regarded it.
“Put it on,” I said helpfully, and mimed shrugging it around my shoulders.
He watched me for a moment, then did as I instructed, unrolling the bag and then wrapping it around his shoulders. After a moment, recognition dawned and he pulled it tighter around his body. “It’s warm. Thank you.”
“What do you remember?” I asked cautiously.
He thought for a moment, then glanced at my fire. “I remember that smell.”
“Fire?” When he shook his head, I pointed at the small silver pot sitting in the coals. “Coffee?”
A smile creased his mouth, and he flashed white teeth. “Yes, that’s it.”
I was a little dazed by the sheer masculine beauty of that smile, and couldn’t help but smile back. “Do you want some?”
He nodded, and shifted a little closer to the fire, gaze on it.
Well, this was a start. I wasn’t sure how I felt about coffee being the bigger lure than my company, but I’d take what I could get. It was disturbing that Leif didn’t remember me…or how to wear clothes. Or much of anything. I wondered if his mind had been damaged by going totally shifter for the last decade and a half. Most that went native never came back. They just disappeared into the wild and never returned.