Page 178 of Rough and Rugged

Although male bear shifters are promiscuous and females are no better, humans are well… prudish by nature. Monogamy seems to be standard for them, and shifter sexual appetites may seem animalistic to our poor, unsuspecting maid.

“Do we hunt her?” Braxton’s voice seems a little unhinged and I become even more aware of the efforts we are all showing to curve our bears at the moment.

“No,” Drake says finally.

I nod and head over to my motorcycle. I grab my helmet and turn to wave goodbye to my brothers.

“Adrain,” Drake calls to me, so I stop with my helmet halfway to my head.

“It smells like snow. Stay close tonight. You have a cabin on the grounds. Please use it,” I sigh at him, looking up at the sky, realizing he’s right, so I nod.

“Fine,” I groan, throwing my leg over the Harley and turning it over.

I rev the engine to annoy them both.

Braxton flips me off as I sail past him and up the private mountain drive to our cabins. We took the back three cabins nestled in the woods, far from all the guest ones, so we may have some privacy if we wished to use them.

Drake lives in his, and Braxton sneaks his lady of the night to his, but mine has sat empty and unused since it was built. The furniture was delivered and set up, but probably covered in dust by now. I’m sure I’ll have to clean before being able to rest.

It snows as I climb the steep incline, and when I decide to park the bike and walk the last half mile. I’ll retrieve it when the snow stops. The air is colder up here, and my leather jacket isn’t doing shit, so I toss it and my helmet on the bike.

I shift into my bear form and shake out my fur.

It’s been so long.

I inwardly smile at the excitement we both feel. Shifters are dual-natured with a shared body with two souls. I am him, and he is me, but our attitudes are always at odds. I am ill-tempered and quick to anger. He is sweet and playful. We are the perfect match.

He stomps through the snow, playing and rolling, getting us all wet and filthy with little grunts of laughter. He finds a large tree and scratches our back, leaving tuffs of fur behind.

We can’t play all night.

I urge him to head to the cabin, and he reluctantly agrees with a groan. Hopefully, the run will exhaust us both. Sleep doesn’t come easily for me, and after the anxiety of the day, I could use more than my usual three hours.

We run until the edge of the woods and then jump into a snow drift. The wind shifts and tickles our noses with a familiar scent.

No fucking way.

The growl is out before I can stop it, and we search the ground to pinpoint where the scent is coming from. We run back into the woods and come across an abandoned campsite.

Is she homeless?

The thought enrages me. We want to keep her warm and safe, feed her, and fill her with our cubs.

Wooo, cubs? No. Slow down.

He’s not listening to me at all. He inhales her scent and turns back to the cabin. I think for a moment that he’s given up, but then I see what’s going on.

Our little maid went in search of better accommodations and found it in my fucking cabin. He paws at the backdoor, and I mentally roll my eyes.

Let me out, and we can go find her.

He whines, but relents, and I slowly shift back. I twist the nob slowly and let myself into my own house like a thief in the night. A very naked thief with no clothes to put on.

“Fuck,” I growl at my predicament.

Then I hear it. Dripping.

I slowly creep through the house and stumble on a backpack on the floor. It’s hers. The scent of her has already filled the house like she belongs here. I stop to survey the barracked she has on the front door and smile.

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