Page 10 of Bearly Yours
And that wasn’t true for just Moonhaven. This absence of female bear shifters was a huge problem in bear shifter Clans. The Clans closest to us—one in California, and the other in Washington—both only had three female bear shifters between them. Three. The ratio of females to males was nearly one hundred-to-one.
A staggering number.
Our Clan, with the addition of Drew, now had twenty-seven bear shifters. And for bear shifters, that’s a pretty large Clan. In fact, it might even be called massive by some.
One of the main reasons a bear joined a Clan was to find their mate. Being in a Clan allowed you access to the Clans that were allied with each other, which allowed you access to a greater number of bear shifters in which you might be able to find your mate. And a bear looking for their mate was serious business.
A bear’s longing for their mate started in their early twenties—I’d just passed my twenty-eighth birthday—and a bear female’s best years for conception were her late twenties to thirties.
This was not something that I was just humoring my Clan brothers with. Iyearnedto find my mate, and I had the worst baby fever ever. Yes, I had a lot on my plate at the moment, andmy time was very limited. And there was also the fact that I was heavily introverted, which made it that much harder to search for my mate. All of these things were true, and yet Iyearnedfor a family and a mate, the same as others in my Clan did. Maybe even a bit more.
But my brokenness made it impossible for me to find them.
It was assumed that I had a genetic defect, because my hormones, including the hormones that allowed my mate to scent that I was their mate, were broken. My hormones regulated all of the things in my body that they should, but to other shifters and paranormals I smelled like absolutely nothing. I had no scent. It was like I was a blank canvas with no paint on it. An empty room. This was devastating for me, because if they couldn’t scent me, then they would never know if I was their mate or not.
I could scent everything else about others: pain, exhaustion, fear, breakfast choices, but I couldn’t scent my mate, because theknowingof that required both of our scents mingling together in order to detect, and that wasn’t possible with me.
Which meant that I wouldneverfind my mate.
So, yes, my Clan brothers had seen the loneliness in my eyes, and they knew how badly I wanted a family, so they’d taken matters into their own paws. I guess they hoped that if I met enough males, I’d find the right one and we’d somehowknow, even thoughknowingwas impossible for me.
My alpha and I and the Clan doctor had tried to fix me. I’d undergone numerous tests to determine what was wrong with my hormones. I’d even taken a whole spectrum of artificial hormones to kind of jump-start my own and make them more detectible to others, but all to no avail. None of it had worked, and we’d finally had to stop because it had affected my mental health too badly.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been zoned out, lost in thought, or that I had tears streaming down my face once again, until my alpha was suddenly kneeling in front of me, pulling me into the world’s best and most gentle bearhug.
“Don’t give up, Emrie,” he said softly. “There’s always hope.”
As I left his office and made my way back to my house a few minutes later, I thought about my alpha’s words and I came to realize that he was right. There was always hope. And if I had to wade through the bad and the ugly to get to the good, I would do it. Because the good was something worth sacrificing for. And hope was always something worth fighting for.
Chapter 3
Emrie
On Monday morning I laid in bed for a while, just thinking about the past few days, before dragging my lazy bear self out of my comfy, cozy,warmbed and took a shower.
When I’d built my house, I had five important features that were must-haves for me. One, a beautiful, relaxing, large bedroom that I could section off to have a sitting area. Two, an ensuite bathroom big enough to fit an Olympic swim team, with a huge walk-in shower and bench, a jetted tub, and a vanity that with two sinks. Three, an attached shop for my woodworking. Four, a space in my backyard that was beautiful and relaxing, with a pool and a waterfall, a firepit, a shade awning, a built-in barbecue, and lots and lots of flower boxes with fairy lights strung overhead. Five, a unique vibe. I hadn’t wanted a cookie-cutter house. I’d wanted something quirky and fun and unusual.
I’d gotten all of those things.
Most days I felt a little spoiled. But if I was spoiled, it had come from my own hard work, so it was acceptable to me.
Even though I don’t cook, Roarke had insisted on my having a full chef’s kitchen, so I’d included one to satisfy him. But a few months after my house had been completed, we’d been hangingout one day and then suddenly I’d woken up feeling bewildered and groggy, and startled to find him leaning over me.
I want to go on record and say that I don’t have an eating problem; I just have a remembering problem. I frequently forgot to eat because I got sucked into my projects and doing other things. Hence the passing out and waking up to Roarke with a frantic look in his eyes.
And then when he’d found out I’d passed out because I’d forgotten lunch—and breakfast—he hadn’t yelled or raised his voice. He’d just quietly asked if he could use my kitchen on Monday afternoons so that he could make quick meals for him to grab and eat during the week.
Of course I’d agreed. I knew how hard cooking was for him when he got home. Doing it all day, he for sure didn’t want to go home and domoreof it, so I fully supported his meal prep days, sadly lacking the foresight to realize they would also bemymeal prep days. By the time I realized it, it had been too late. He’d somehow conned me into taking better care of myself. I’d wanted to protest then—still did sometimes—but then I remembered the look in his eyes when I came to after passing out, and I held my tongue.
Remembering this, I popped a few pieces of toast in the toaster and slathered them with butter, peanut butter, and honey when they came out nice and golden brown. I washed them down with ice water, and filled up the jug of water I usually took into the shop with me.
I was wearing jeans and the new Moonhaven Cove Bear Clan tee shirt that Taco and Drew had given me last night, their faces brimming with remorse andforgive meeyes.
Of course, I’d forgiven them. I loved their silly faces too much to be upset with them for very long. But I had set some boundaries, which I should have done in the first place, and they’d squeezed me in a hug before I’d left.
My ruminations were interrupted by a soft knock at my door. Each of my Clan had their own knock, but I didn’t need that as a determiner; I just used my nose.
Matteo.
