Page 4 of Stout Bear

Laney steppedinto her sparsely furnished apartment, setting her backpack near the front door with a soft thud. Boxes lined one wall, half-open and unpacked, their contents spilling out in disorganized heaps. A single lamp cast a faint glow across a small couch and an empty bookshelf. She had barely settled into her new home.

Her first day at the Bright Institute flashed through her mind. New faces, unfamiliar routines, the pristine laboratory where she would work. Ivy had shown her warmth during her orientation, explaining procedures with patience and clear expertise. But Laney noticed how Ivy moved with the natural confidence of a full shifter, completely at home in her skin and in her position.

Unlike Laney.

Laney had an inner fox, but for some unknown reason, she couldn’t shift. Her father was a full-blooded fox shifter. Her mother remained human, and the family believed being a half-shifter was good enough for Laney, the middle child. She grewup as the black sheep, the outcast who never quite fit in either world.

Laney dropped onto the couch and picked up her phone. The silence of the apartment closed in. Dusk shadows crept across the empty walls. Her inner fox yipped with sadness, a part of her that spoke loudly in her mind but could never fully express itself. That was how she felt, half-formed and incomplete. Living between two worlds and not really part of either.

She felt so isolated. The move to a brand-new town meant starting from scratch socially, with no friends nearby and colleagues she barely knew. Laney scrolled through her phone, swiping past mundane news updates, messages from distant acquaintances wishing her well in the new job, and a half-finished personal to-do list that grew longer each day.

An advertisement appeared on her screen, bright and inviting. “Mate.com: Connecting shifters with perfect matches for thirty-five years.” The image showed happy shifter couples; their animal counterparts subtly suggested in the backdrop.

Laney had known about mate.com all her life but avoided it because of her half-shifter status. She existed in an uncomfortable middle ground, not human and not fully shifter. Without allowing herself to overthink, Laney clicked the link for mate.com. The screen brightened, displaying prompts for profile creation.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, even as her fingers continued tapping through the registration form.

When the form asked what type of shifter she was, she hesitated. There was no box for half-shifter. The dropdown menu offered dozens of options: wolf, bear, mountain lion, hawk, and manyothers. Fox appeared on the list, but nothing acknowledging her in-between status.

After a moment of indecision, she selected “fox.” It wasn’t entirely untrue, just incomplete. Like herself. A quick series of personality questions appeared. Some seemed logical for matchmaking: interests, values, preferred activities. Others struck her as bizarre.

“If you were a vegetable, what would you be?” one question asked.

“I guess a carrot?” Laney said, typing her answer. Carrots were sweet but they grew underground in the dark, hidden away like she often felt herself to be.

She continued answering questions about her ideal match, desired relationship, and future goals. Each response felt like a small confession. The form prompted her to upload a photo. Laney opened her gallery and scrolled through the few pictures of herself, critiquing each one with a harsh eye. Her customary shyness and insecurity rose to the surface. In one photo, her curly auburn hair looked too wild; in another, her smile seemed forced.

“What am I even doing?” she asked herself.

She closed the photo gallery without selecting an image. She didn’t believe she was worthy of a mate, and this was all a waste of time. Better to remain anonymous than to show her true self and face rejection.

The final question asked for a brief personal statement. Laney hesitated, then typed: “Environmental scientist who enjoys quiet evenings, hiking, and discovering new places. Looking for someone kind and genuine.” Simple and true.

She contemplated her lie about her shifter status, her insecurity growing. If she ever met someone through this app, she would need to confess eventually. The thought made her stomach tighten.

With a sigh, she tapped “Submit,” thinking nothing would come of it anyway. The screen changed, showing a colorful animation while the algorithm processed her information. “Finding your perfect match,” the text announced.

After a few moments, the screen loaded with her matches. At the top of the screen was a bold banner: “100% MATCH” it proclaimed, showing a username “Stout Bear.”

Laney stared at the screen in disbelief. A perfect match? Her inner fox stirred with interest, suddenly alert after the day’s fatigue. She instantly felt shame for lying about being a full shifter. If she’d told the truth, that perfect score would surely disappear.

Despite her better judgment, Laney opened Stout Bear’s profile, scanning the photos of a striking bear shifter smiling confidently at the camera. He was absolutely gorgeous. Massive and tall, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. Dark hair cut short on the sides but longer on top. Deep brown eyes that seemed to look right through the screen at her. His smile showed perfect teeth and created dimples in his cheeks.

Her inner fox started going crazy at the sight of him, panting and yowling, scratching at the backs of her eyes with an intensity she had never experienced before. The animal within her recognized something in this man. But maybe it was just wishful thinking.

His profile mentioned he ran a brewery and enjoyed an outdoorsy lifestyle. Hiking, fishing, camping, and kayakingfilled his list of interests. His personal statement read, “Second-generation brewer seeking someone to share mountain adventures and quiet evenings by the fire.”

Laney felt a pang of insecurity looking at such a gorgeous man. She had always thought of herself as an ugly duckling, with pale skin, freckles scattered across her nose, and wild auburn hair that refused to be tamed. She was petite but curvy, standing just over five feet tall. At twenty-eight, she had never really dated, too self-conscious to put herself out there.

She had only had sex once in college, with a human frat boy. It was terrible, an experience she had tried to forget. He had been rough and selfish, and she left feeling worse than before.

“A man like that would never want someone like me,” she whispered, staring at Stout Bear’s gorgeous smile.

She set the phone aside, stood up, and paced the small living area. Her inner fox was in hysterics for Stout Bear, whining and scratching at the backs of her eyes. Laney shoved the feelings down. She had taught herself not to listen to her inner fox, refusing to create a working relationship with the animal within. It only led to disappointment and frustration when she couldn’t fully shift.

“He deserves someone confident and beautiful, a real person, not... me,” Laney said to the empty apartment.

She recalled every dismissive comment her siblings had made growing up. They’d called her a freak, never letting her forget she was different. When they ran through the woods in their animal forms, she stayed behind, watching from the sidelines.

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