Control (21 page)

Quick nod and rapid blinking, probably to stop the wetness in his eyes from turning into tears.

It wasn’t a story I’d ever told, wasn’t something I talked about, so I had to take a moment to think about how to start. “Grizzly shifters aren’t like a lot of other shifters,” I finally said. “Our animal part is much larger than our human part. I weigh about two-ten in human form, but my bear is easily seven hundred pounds.”

He furrowed his brow, and I knew he was listening intently, but not understanding my point.

“Pure bears generally mind their own business. They’re solitary, but if they’re threatened, all bets are off. There’s a reason people call protective mothers mama bears.” I paused and smiled at him. “You called me that.” I kissed his forehead. “It was cute. But, really, a mama bear will kill someone who she thinks wants to take or damage what’s hers—her cubs. They’re the same way with food or anything else they view as theirs. Leave ’em alone, and they’ll keep to themselves; step into their territory, and their possessive nature will leap to the surface.”

“Other shifters are like that too,” Vy said. “Even hawks. Why do you think my ket is so nervous about you? You’re in our territory, and they see you as a threat, so they get bristly and angry.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “But your bird is smaller than your man. Those animal instincts you feel? The ones that seem to rule you?”

He dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

“They come from an animal that’s what? Three pounds at the most?”

“Yeah. But what does that have to do with anything? We’re all shifters—part animal, part human.”

“But the parts aren’t the same. You’ve told me how important your animal is to you, what a big part of you he is, but in literal measurements, he’s small. Your body mass as a man is much larger. With bears, it’s the opposite. My animal is three and a half times the size of my man, Vy. All those instincts, all those needs, all that energy has to be condensed down to fit in my body when I’m in this form, but it’s still there, right? I mean, you know how it is—your bird is in you all the time; it doesn’t go away just because you’re in your human body.”

He blinked again, but this time it wasn’t about tears, it was about surprise and concern. I could see understanding dawning.

“You think a mama bear gets angry when someone gets close to her cubs? Imagine what a bear shifter in man form does when he feels like someone is poaching on what’s his. Imagine the instincts of the bear all folded up to fit into the smaller space of a human body.”

He gasped.

“Get it? Do you understand what it’s like? There’s a pounding inside all the time, a darkness that’s shoved into a box, pulsing and pushing and so very strong, but there’s nowhere for it to go, no way for it to find release. If something happens that aggravates the bear, the man snaps, and the power, the drive, of the bear unfurls, so the rage is huge, much bigger than any human.” I paused. “But what’s worse is if we can’t keep our human forms, because then the bear comes out and he glories in it, glories in the freedom and the space and the ability to finally, finally use all his power.”

“Like when we take our hawk form and fly,” Vy whispered.

“Does it feel good?” I asked. “To stretch your wings and give your body the freedom to do everything it can? To use all of your power and ability?”

“Yeah.”

“Think about it, Vy. Seven hundred pounds of bear who lives a good portion of his life caged, wanting to feel his power, wanting to show his dominance.” I swallowed hard. “Now imagine if he’s pissed off.”

“What happened?” Vy asked, his voice trembling.

In many ways, it was a really simple, really common story.

“My parents met, they fell in love, and my mother got pregnant. But my father wasn’t monogamous. Most bears aren’t. He was a truck driver, and he had whatever the equivalent is of a woman at every port. I guess maybe she figured what’s good for the gander is good for the goose. When I was barely five, he came home and found her with another man, a cheetah shifter.” I had been young, but I remembered it, every single detail. “I had been asleep in my bed, but the screaming woke me up. I opened my door, just a little to peek. My father had been on the road for a couple of weeks, all cooped up in his truck. I didn’t get it then, but I do now, how condensed all his feelings were, how thin his control must have been. He couldn’t stop it. There was another man in his home, in his bed, in his woman. The cheetah was dead before he could shift, and it might have ended there except—” I swallowed hard. “She was pregnant. He didn’t know, I don’t think, not until it was too late, not until he turned on her and smacked her hard enough to throw her off the bed into the wall.”

“Oh, Robert.” Vy climbed on top of me and peppered my face with kisses. “I’m sorry.”

Such a sweet soul, my little bird. “Thank you, but there’s more.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want you to know. You need to understand what can happen so you can protect yourself.”

“From what?”

“Me,” I said. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Of course I was. I heard every word.” He didn’t get off me, just stayed there with his arms folded on my chest and his face hovering above mine. “I can’t imagine what it was like to see your father do something like that. I know it was hard to share it with me, and—”

“No.” I shook my head. “That wasn’t the bad part.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Tell me.”

I drew in a deep breath. “At the time, I didn’t understand it, but now I do. My mother was bleeding, realized she’d lost the baby or thought she had, I don’t know, but she went crazy, shifted into her bear, and jumped on my father. He shifted too. They were both dead in minutes.”

Vy gasped and paled, but he didn’t run away from me or throw me out of his house, which was really more than I could have hoped for, so I didn’t mind when he didn’t talk for many long minutes. He let me hold him, let me touch him; that was all I wanted and probably more than I deserved.

“Robert?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I kissed his forehead.

“You said your parents are biologists. They travel around and work for the nature conservation something or the other.”

“Yes.” I combed my fingers through his pretty blond hair. “They adopted me. After my parents stopped yelling and moving, I went into their room. I couldn’t wake them up, and I was so scared that I shifted, and then I ran. A couple of days later, Jennifer and Anthony Cimino found me. I was dehydrated and cut up and bruised and too tired to fight them off. They’re bear experts, both of them. They thought they were rescuing a young grizzly and got the shock of their lives when I shifted into a little boy. They’d fed me and taken care of me for days, so I trusted them by then. I was lucky, so lucky.” I grinned. “Of course, they say it was fate.” I cupped his cheek. “They remind me of you in that way. Maybe they’re right; maybe fate brought them to me.” I felt bile rising in my stomach at the memory of blood and dismembered bodies. “But fate had nothing to do with what my parents did to each other.”

“They’re humans?” Vy asked disbelievingly. “You were raised by humans?”

“Yes.” I snorted. “Don’t sound so shocked. It’s not like they’re aliens.”

“No. I know, but”—he furrowed his brow—“what do humans know about shifters? How could they teach you about your bear?”

“Well, when you meet my parents, they will be happy to inform you that nobody knows more about bears than they do. They are, in their words and everyone else’s, subject-matter experts.”

“But they’re not shifters.”

“Did you need someone to teach you how to shift?” I asked.

“Well, no, but—”

“Exactly. Shifting is easy. It’s keeping the animal away that’s hard.”

Vy narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. “Is that what they taught you?” he bit out, sounding pissed as hell. “Did they make you ashamed of your animal?”

“Look at you, all grumbly.”

I don’t think he appreciated my amusement, so I cleared my throat and tried to wipe away my grin. “My parents have spent their entire adult lives dedicated to the study and protection of bears,” I explained. “If I had wanted to spend every day all day in my bear form, they would have been thrilled. I’m the one who doesn’t want to shift, Vy. My human parents taught me to meditate, they taught me to be a good man, they taught me a lot of things, but they never taught me to hate my bear.” My other parents, on the other hand, had done the job proficiently in one miserable night.

“You’re afraid of turning into your parents.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer it.

“But you would never do that,” Vy assured me.

“No, I won’t,” I agreed. “Because I make sure to keep a firm grip on that part of me. I won’t let myself lose control.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Vy said. “You can let your bear out, Robert. You’re not a violent man, and he’s part of you.”

I combed my fingers through his hair again. With all the responsibility he had, all the pressure of leading his ket, Vy was still remarkably untainted. I supposed his wonderful parents and loyal friends and even the charming town where he lived played a big part in that. Satisfaction bone deep shot through me at the knowledge. That’s what I wanted for my little bird—peace, safety, warmth. He deserved nothing less. And I’d make sure it stayed that way, make sure nothing and nobody ever took away his spirit. Myself included.

“I’m not a violent man,” I agreed. “I am, however, a very big, very strong, very possessive bear.”

He gulped, and I would have thought it was in fear, but the way his pupils dilated, his nostrils flared, and, most importantly, his dick thickened against my belly told me he was having a completely different reaction.

“That turns you on?” I asked, my voice huskier. I couldn’t help it; his arousal inflamed my own, like an inescapable chain reaction. The urge to touch him and stroke him and make him feel bliss was huge. My little bird wanted, and so I needed to give.

After a slight pause, he licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You’re not scared I’ll hurt you?” I fisted my hands to keep from touching his dick or fingering his ass. We needed to finish the conversation so Vy would stay safe. After that, I’d make him cum.

He shook his head. “I’ll never give you a reason to hurt me.”

Though I didn’t doubt him, I was a believer in covering all my bases. “Vy, if anything ever happens and I lose control over my bear, I need you to promise me something.”

“Sure,” he said. “Anything. We can even go now.” He started to wiggle off me. “We can shift and—”

“No.” I grabbed his hips and held him still. “I won’t shift. I will
never
shift. But if I do, if I can’t stop it, you need to shift too, and you need to fly away so I can’t reach you.”

“You’d never—”

“You have no idea what I could do, little bird. None.” I cupped his cheek. “I love you, Vy,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill you.”

His smile was huge, not exactly the reaction you expect when you tell someone you might murder them. “You love me?” he said quietly but joyfully. “I love you too. I know it’s fast, but—”

Suddenly he stopped short, and his smiling countenance was replaced by one of pure, unadulterated terror. There it was; he finally got it, finally understood the ramifications of being with a bear. I didn’t think he’d throw me out; the chance was there, of course, but Vy was a strong man, and his animal had a unique way to escape mine. If I lost control, I would crush and destroy anything I could reach, but I couldn’t take to the sky. If he was right about us being mates, if fate existed and was responsible for our pairing, I was willing to give her an “atta girl” for that one.

“Robert, did you say—”

He scrambled off the bed, his eyes wide, his breath short. It hurt knowing I caused that reaction, knowing he feared me. But it wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve. I dipped my head in shame and forced myself to stay still and allow him the freedom to react to the horror I’d just thrust on him.

“It wasn’t literal right?” He was pacing. “I mean, it’s just something you say, like, uh, ‘I can’t hear myself think’ or, um, ‘My head will explode’ or whatever else.”

Raising my head, I looked at Vy and tried to follow his rambling. Was he asking whether I had been exaggerating? If that was his question, he wouldn’t like my answer. There’s no way to exaggerate death. It’s ugly and painful and permanent.

“You didn’t mean it, right?” He looked at me imploringly, and my heart broke at the knowledge that I couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. “Tell me it isn’t true.” He stepped toward me. “Not never, but not, like, now, right? I mean, someday, but later, after, uh, well, I don’t know, but… later.”

I had opened my mouth to answer but snapped it shut when he lost me again.

“Robert!” he shrieked and marched straight back to the bed.

I was sitting up by then, having moved to the edge of the bed when he was talking to me. He came right over, stood between my spread legs, and planted his hands on his hips.

“Why aren’t you answering me?” he shouted and stomped his foot, actually stomped it.

The whole thing was excruciatingly adorable. First off, he was naked, which was a visual feast in and of itself. But also, he was all affronted, and there was something undeniably charming about him all ruffled and snarky and bratty. But the best part, the part that made my soul sing, was that he had come toward me rather than darting away. That was where he belonged, with me.

“Calm down, little bird.” I slowly raised my arms. I half expected him to jump back, but he didn’t.

“Robert! Don’t tell me to calm down.” He stomped again. “This is serious.”

“I know.” I rubbed my hands up his hips and around to his backside.

“If you know, then why aren’t you answering me? And are you laughing? Do you think this is funny?”

It wasn’t, it so wasn’t. But he was beautiful and full of life and mine. He was mine.

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry.” I dragged my hands over his ribs and up his chest. “Tell me what you want to know, and I’ll answer.”

“Your parents,” he huffed in frustration. “You said
when
I meet your parents. But you meant that theoretically, right? I mean, it’s not like they’re here now, so….”