Page 18 of Omega's Bears

Chapter Eleven

The morning after Jackand I have sex is as stressful as the night. Once the men leave for the day, I curl up by the fire and manage a few hours of sleep, but every time I drift off, my sleep is disturbed by dreams. They all start the same—I’m back in the woods with Jack, naked, the two of us climbing all over each other, barely even human in the face of our mad desire. And then, the dream shifts. Ryan walks in on us, or Luka does, or I realize we’ve been in the den and they’ve been watching the whole time. And just as everyone’s eyes meet, and I see the terrible comprehension on the faces of my clanmates, just as the fight I know is imminent is about to break out, I shudder awake, every time.

After several of these dreams, I give up on trying to get any sleep and crawl out of the cave, thinking I’ll spend the rest of my morning berry picking until the men come back. This has become a semi-regular part of my routine, now that we’re settled in and Jack is comfortable with me leaving the den during the day. It’s always nice to contribute something, to be able to show the others a full basket of fresh berries when they return from a hard day’s hunt, and I know they appreciate it. I spotted a promising looking blueberry bush the other day. Maybe I’ll try that.

On my way out of the cave, I grab our water skin. The best fruit can be found down by the river, so I might as well refill the water while I’m there. And as an added benefit, maybe if I can wear myself out physically by hauling all these things around, I’ll have a little bit easier time falling asleep tonight.

I pick my way through the underbrush, stepping lightly and carefully. I’m pleased to notice that my footfalls don’t make a sound. This isn’t a skill I had before I came to the Hell’s Bears, this ability to move silently and quickly. Every day, I discover more and more ways I’m adapting, becoming like them. Sleeping in a cave doesn’t even feel strange anymore, it just feels like home. And although I’m not fully at ease with the fact that they robbed a convenience store, it’s becoming easier to put that idea out of my mind by reminding myself that I always knew the Hell’s Bears were lawless. At least no one was hurt.

Does my ability to adjust to these things mean that I’ll also be able to adjust to whatever is going on sexually between me and the others? Will I someday look back at these days in my life and laugh at all the anxiety I’m currently feeling? Right now, it doesn’t seem possible. Jack and I haven’t spoken about what happened. Did I cheat on Ryan? Who do I belong to now? All I want is a clear answer, some kind of direction for my future, but I don’t know who to ask or how I can possibly bring it up.

I reach the river and set down my fruit basket on the bank. The blueberries look ripe and delicious, and I also see a patch of wild mushrooms. I’m not sure whether or not they’re edible, but Jack will know. I pull up a few of them and put them in my basket and then spend the next several minutes hunting for the biggest and bluest berries. It’s satisfying to find them and fill up my basket, and occasionally, I pop one in my mouth and let the sweet flavor distract me from my worries. Coming out here was a good idea. If I return to the den with this offering and everyone is in a good mood, I’ll feel much easier in my mind about what happened between me and Jack yesterday. Maybe I’ll even work up the confidence to talk to him about it.

Water skin in hand, I lower myself to the ground and make my way carefully over the mossy rocks around the river. I dip the skin in carefully and watch the bubbles rise from the neck as it fills. When the bubbles stop, I lift the skin and screw the lid back on tightly. The men will be pleased that I came out here to fill up the water, even if they aren’t excited about the berries. Fetching water isn’t my responsibility, so I’ll have saved someone some work this evening by taking care of it. I’m sure they’ll appreciate the help.

I carefully toss the water skin onto the river bank and begin the careful process of turning around so I can crawl up the rock and back on to the land, but suddenly, my knee slips on a patch of moss and I slip backward. Before I can process what’s happening, I’m in the water.

It’s freezing. The cold stabs right to my bones. The current is strong and pulls me right under and I thrash, fighting to get my head above water, feeling like I’m going to scream. I can’t open my mouth. I can’t move. I can’t get my feet under me. I can’t....

Something powerful erupts from within me and my head breaks through the water into fresh air, shooting upward, my body expanding as my core temperature rises. Suddenly, without warning, without planning it, I’m strong and powerful, tall and warm. I rise up onto my hind legs and throw my head back, sniffing the air. In my bear form, I’m infinitely more aware of everything around me. And moving along the wind, I smell a familiar scent, a scent that sets my mouth watering.

Fish.

I haven’t had fish since joining the Hell’s Bears. Luka explained to me, back in our old cave, that they were out of season and we’d have to wait a few months for the fishing to be good. But no one told this group of fish. And no one told them there’s a full grown bear standing in the river waiting to intercept them.

I’ve never fished before, but I’m doing a lot of things lately that I’ve never done before, and this feels so natural that I don’t even question it. My body knows what to do. I position myself carefully and hold still so that the ripples of my movement won’t alert the fish to a threat. Then, I wait, watching the water below me for the shimmer of scales. I try not to think about the delicious taste of fish and what a nice change it will make from the red meat we eat every day. I try not to think about how I’ll cook it—grilled to perfection over our fire with blueberries, or, if Jack approves them, maybe those mushrooms. I don’t let myself think of the expressions on the guys’ faces when they see I’ve brought home dinner. I focus all my attention on the water. In bear form, it’s easy to stay focused.

And before long, the fish appear, the early morning sun sparkling off their bodies. They’re massive, each one as long as my arm in human form. Salmon, I’m pretty sure, though it’s hard to be positive. All my experience with salmon comes in the form of eating it. I’ve never dealt with a live fish before in my life. I’ve never had the occasion to.

Now I know instinctively what to do. I dart my paw into the water, claws out, and snatch up a fish on my first try. It wiggles desperately in my grip as I pull it out of the river, but I’m strong enough to maintain my hold with ease. I lumber up onto the riverbank and give myself a good shake, whipping the water from my fur. Though I’d like to shift back to human form for the journey home, I know the cold will be agonizing on my bare skin. I put the fish in my mouth. I’ll come back for my fruit basket and water skin once I’m dried off and dressed.

The hardest part of the journey home is when I’ve reached the cave entrance. Belly crawling through the narrow passage has become easier with practice, but doing it naked is a different proposition. The cold ground rubs my skin raw and I know I’ll be covered with dirt and mud by the time I emerge into the cavern. There’s also the fish to contend with. It’s slimy and slips from between my human fingers every couple of feet, leaving me to feel around in the dark until I can lay my hands on it again.

Finally, I make it into the cavern. I’m so relieved that the trek is over that at first, all I can do is hurry over to the fire and sit in front of it, warming my frozen extremities and hoping for my hair to dry quickly. As soon as I’ve thawed out enough to move, I pull on a set of clothes and tie my hair back. Then I set back out for the river to retrieve the fruit and water skin I left behind.

Making the journey fully dressed and without a large fish in my arms is significantly easier, and I resolve never to complain about the narrow squeeze in and out of our den again. As long as I’ve got clothes on, it could always be worse. I snack on blueberries as I make my way back to the cave for the second time today, a sense of pride and accomplishment starting to fill me. I’ve never provided a meal before, not like this. I’ve picked berries, certainly, but to bring home meat for the whole clan is a different feeling. And the fact that it’s fish, a deviation from our normal diet, is the cherry on top. Finally, we’ll have some variety, and it’s all thanks to me.

What difference does it make, really, that the Hell’s Bears took some money from a convenience store? How could I have allowed myself to worry about that for so long? And why do I need to know what it’s for? I’m sure Jack has his reasons. He’s never led me wrong, after all. He’s my alpha, and I need to trust him. It’s not my place to ask questions. My responsibility is to follow. I owe him my allegiance.

And I need to trust him, too, when it comes to everything else that went on between the two of us. Jack is levelheaded and always thinks through the consequences of his actions. He’d never do anything without being sure it was the right decision. He cares for me. He cares for Ryan. And most of all, he cares for the peace and unity of our clan. He’s not being a dominant alpha with no consideration for anyone, claiming me as his own, in spite of Ryan. He’d never do that.

He imprinted on me. Perhaps he couldn’t help himself. But I don’t think that’s right. After all, hasn’t Ryan been resisting the pull of his imprint ever since it happened? And when Jack imprinted, he had my clothes off within seconds. He didn’t even try to resist. He just took me, right there in the forest.

God. I can’t deny that it was hot. I can’t deny that I want it to happen again. I just wish I could stop feeling so anxious about that. I wish there was some way I could be sure that I wouldn’t be blamed and that my new clan—the men I’m beginning to feel a real bond with—wouldn’t experience any fallout over this.

I emerge into the cavern, basket and water skin in hand, and stop dead.

Luka, Ryan, and Jack have all returned from their hunt in my absence, and they’re all standing by the fire and staring at me with shocked expressions on their faces.

My heart drops into my stomach. They know.

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