Shift Out Of Luck (Bear Bites, #1)

I find Eli in his office overlooking one of the many tributaries that make up the Boundary Waters—massive amounts of fresh water that separates the US and Canada.

“Good to see you, Cole,” Eli says absently as he paws through his mail. “What can I do for you?”

“You get my message about the Samson thing?” I ask. There’s a plate of cookies sitting on the edge of the desk, and I sweep up five before Eli can protest. “Jesus. These are fucking amazing,” I mumble around a mouthful of soft gooey heaven. “What’s in them?”

“Honey. Sugar. Butter? Fuck if I know.” He removes the plate from my reach. “You don’t have to worry about Samson’s group. I reviewed the trails he plans to take them on and they’re all baby courses. Even Samson should be able to make it through those hikes without any injuries. There are no night events either. Everyone is either checked in here at the Lodge or one of the cabins.”

“Actually I saw Samson go out today with someone,” chirps Dillon who comes in to steal a few cookies.

“A girl someone?” I ask suspiciously.

“Yeah.” He reaches for more, but Eli growls a low warning, which makes Dillon back off. “I think it’s the lady who runs that girly place in town. The one with pillows on the sign in front of the building.”

I jump out of the chair and glare at Eli. “You said no one was going out until tomorrow and definitely no overnight camping.”

He raises his hands as if to fend off a blow. “This wasn’t on his agenda.”

This time it’s me who does the growling. Eli and Dillon’s ears flatten against their heads in response. Dillon backs up against the door and lowers his head.

I spin on my heel. I don’t want to fight Eli or his cub. It’s Samson that I want and Samson that I’m going to have. “I have to go. What direction did he take?”

“I think he was going toward Bass Lake Trail.”

The Superior National Forest isn’t for amateurs. There are things that live in these dense forested regions that no human should come into contact with.

“If you’re thinking of shifting, there’s a house full of human guests the west side of the Lodge. You’ll probably want to avoid them,” Eli advises. “What will you do if you catch her?”

“When I catch her,” I correct him. “I’m going to take her home and make sure she understands the Superior National Forest isn’t safe for her without a guide from here.”

“And that’s all you plan?” he asks. It’s clear he’s been talking to Leo.

“Adelaide is a human,” I remind him, and exit the office. He follows me.

“Just because Eric Christiansen had an unfortunate run-in with his girlfriend doesn’t mean the same thing can happen with you. You’re older and you have a lot more control of your animal.”

“I won’t risk it with Adelaide.”

“Then what does it matter if she’s out with Pat Samson?”

“Because she’s mine.” I bare my teeth and take off, ignoring Eli’s hearty chuckle behind me.

It doesn’t take long to shift. The beast is just underneath the skin, and calling him forth takes no more effort than scratching an itch. I pick up Adelaide’s scent along with a putrid male one. I don’t make any effort to quiet my lumbering through the woods. I want Samson to know I’m coming, and if he shits his pants in fear…so much the better.





* * *



“Don’t be a fucking tease.” I hear Samson order. “Why else would you want to come up here with me alone if it wasn’t to get laid?”

“Because of nature! And I didn’t want to be alone!” Adelaide exclaims.

The yelp and slap that follow get swallowed by the crashing of my eight-hundred-pound body through the underbrush.

“What the fuck is that?” Samson cries.

“Where are you going? Stop that! Come back here, you asshole!”

When I reach the small clearing, Adelaide is watching Samson’s back retreat down the slope.

“Oh my God!” she screams, and starts to run down the same way Samson took. I lunge past her, chasing after Samson. With a giant grizzly hot on his heels, Samson runs faster than Usain Bolt, and we leave Adelaide far behind us.

The acrid smell of urine wafts up and I veer off the path to avoid stepping in Samson’s piss. Finally, his weak human legs give out and he collapses near the edge of the woods. I crouch down into a lunging motion and that’s enough to spur Samson into gear again. He jumps up and runs to his Jeep. After a couple of false starts, he peels out, spitting up gravel behind him.

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