Page 34 of A Very Beary Christmas
Chapter 18
Chloe
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair was thicker and longer, a lustrous golden blonde. Gold flecks now infused my brown eyes. And my skin had somehow acquired a healthy, tawny glow, even though it was the middle of winter.
I turned away, then looked back over my shoulder. I was still on the thin side, but I looked more toned than I had before. Beneath the surface, I could actually see some definition. I might have been mistaken, but I was fairly certain my butt was firmer and my boobs were perkier, too. I still had my limp, but it was less pronounced and there was a chance it would disappear entirely over time.
I smiled, seeing the multitude of love bites fading away even as I watched. Apparently, my she-bear was not only the picture of health, she was a horny little thing, too. Oddly enough, Sam didn’t seem to find that a problem at all.
Just thinking about the creative ways he had handled that new, assertive side of me set those urges stirring again. I took a deep breath and forced myself to think about something else. My poor mate needed his rest.
It had been a week since my shocking wake up call, and we had barely left the cabin, except for occasional romp through the woods.
Sam had been amazing, going above and beyond to see to my every need. He had also been patient and understanding, teaching me how to coexist with my sow and control the transformation from one form to the other. It was a frustrating process.
Sometimes my she-bear didn’t feel like coming out, or conversely, didn’t want to hand back the reins because she was having too much fun. Eventually, and with lots of help, we would figure it out.
Sam’s family had been great, too. They were giving me the space and time to acclimate to this new part of me. They had visited only enough to deliver massive quantities of food. Apparently shifting, and highly physical sex marathons, required lots of fuel. My stomach rumbled in ready agreement.
Tugging on one of Sam’s flannel shirts, I padded out to the kitchen and began to prepare something. I was famished, and I knew Sam would be hungry when he woke up. He had earned a big, protein and carb-laden meal.
The painting I had made for Sam now hung above the mantel, though different from the original. I had modified it one night while Sam got some much-deserved rest, replacing the human version of myself with my she-bear. That was what had been missing. Now, it was perfect.
I couldn’t help looking at the Christmas tree as I chopped and sliced, grated and mashed. Rufus still sat beside it, reminding me of the wonder of Christmas miracles. I had only ever wished for two things: to be a bear, and to live with Sam and his family.
Though it had taken a little while, both had been granted.
Laughing softly to myself, I added a third wish: to make Sam as happy as he had made me, and maybe have some cubs of our own to spoil this time next year.
I heard Sam moving around, probably drawn by the delicious, mouth-watering scents now filling the cabin. I ramped up my meal preparations, a plan already forming in my mind. He was going to need alotof energy ...
