Page 6 of Holly's Grizzly

I run warmer than humans do, much warmer, and grizzly shifters even give most paranormals a run for their money in the internal temperature department. Holly’s still bundled in hersoaking wet clothing—which we’ll have to take care of as soon as we get back to my cabin—but like this, she can at least partly take advantage of my body heat.

In my arms, a violent shiver wracks her frame.

I pull her closer and rub my hand up and down her bicep, like that would do anything to help at this point since she’s nearly soaked to the bone.

What the hell she’s doing out here so far from the trailhead, all alone, with no pack, and how in the world she ended up in the river is a complete mystery, but none of it really matters right now. All that matters is getting her somewhere safe, warm, out of the cold and out of these soaking clothes.

With that imperative pounding through me, I keep my attention on holding Holly steady and moving as quickly as I can through the woods, which are quickly filling up with snow.

We’re not far from my cabin, and that’s a damn good thing.

If it was any further, I might have been too far away to hear her scream. Grizzly shifters don’t have as sharp a sense of hearing as some other paranormals, but her cry of fear was unmistakable.

It hit me just as I was settling in to ride out the storm, and I was out the door and shifting before I fully thought it through. Someone was in trouble, I could help, and going to investigate in my grizzly form seemed at the time like a better idea than walking into whatever was happening in my much-less-durable human form.

We round a bend in the path, and my cabin comes into view. The lights shining from the windows must catch Holly’s attention, too, because she turns to look and lets out a little squeak of something I really, really hope is relief.

The last thing I want to do is scare her when she’s already in such tough shape, but I can’t imagine seeing a bear come stalking out of the woods toward her, and then having thatbear turn into a large, unfamiliar man, could have been very comforting in her situation.

But there was no way in hell I was going to do anything but get her to safety, and now I just hope I wasn’t too late to prevent any serious hypothermia from setting in.

Pushing the door open, a wave of warmth from the furnace and the fire burning in the living room fireplace washes over us. I carry Holly to the middle of the room and set her on her feet, but her knees buckle immediately.

“Easy,” I say, keeping my voice low so I don’t startle her and bracing my hands under her elbows to haul her upright. “I’ve got you. Can you stand?”

She mumbles something that isn’t quite a response. Another shiver wracks her frame, and I think her legs are going to give out again, but she draws in a shaking breath and grasps my forearms, her grip surprisingly strong.

Briefly, I war with myself over whether I should go find my phone and call for help, try to get a helicopter up here or something to evacuate her. The roads are already covered in ice and snow, and we’re at least twenty miles away from the nearest ambulance service, so at this point that would probably be the only option.

But… is it even an option? Can helicopters fly through blizzards?

I have no fucking idea, and when I glance down and see the growing puddle on the floor from all the water and melting ice in Holly’s clothes, a more immediate need presents itself, so I momentarily push the question aside.

“We have to get these wet clothes off of you,” I mutter, not knowing how to put it any less bluntly.

Holly nods, and shivers again as I reach for the zipper at the front of her jacket.

Shivering is good, right?

Shit, I really hope it is.

I help her out of her outer layer, tossing the jacket and the thermal pants aside. When I pause, Holly reaches for the hem of her shirt to tug it off.

That’s good, too, right? That she’s helping, that she’s coherent enough to help.

It’s going to have to be as she strips off the rest of her clothes until she’s down to her bra and underwear.

I avert my eyes and grab a blanket from the sofa. “Here.”

Holding it out to her, it only takes her a moment to understand what I mean. She takes it from me and wraps herself up, sinking down onto the sofa and shimmying out of her underwear and bra before fishing them out and dropping them into a pile with the rest of her clothes.

Closing her eyes and slumping back into the couch, she pulls the blanket tighter around her.

I turn to the fire, adding a few more logs and stoking it higher. But even with the blazing warmth, my heart sinks when I turn back to Holly.

She’s still shivering.

Running a rough hand through my hair, I’m about to go find my phone and finally, finally call for help.

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