8. Ethan

EIGHT

ETHAN

As I gave the cabin one last sweep of the eye, the reality of the evening hit me—I'd asked Miranda out, and she'd said yes.

Part of me still couldn't wrap my head around it.

My gaze swept around the small space I called home, making sure there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. I knew she wouldn't care, but I did. I wanted everything to be perfect, because I knew deep down Miranda deserved nothing but perfection.

While I was excited about her coming over, and getting to spend more time with her, it also wasn't lost on me that I was on the brink of sharing the most screwed up part of my life with someone who might be able to help me fix it.

My beast threatened to shred me from the inside out if I thought of him like that again. I tried to tune him out, but he was adamant. This was nothing new, though. He was my constant companion, always present, which meant he was also my constant tormentor.

Life with him was nerve-wracking and exhausting.

Miranda gave me a sliver of hope that I might be able to put all this with him behind me. I wasn't sure why I felt so strongly about it, but I did.

At the sound of a motorcycle barreling down my driveway, my thoughts scattered.

She was here. My heart kickstarted inside my chest as I made my way to the front door. When I swung it open, she came to a stop right in front and cut the engine on her bike. She removed her helmet, shaking free her long, silken dark locks, and the sight of her was more than I'd prepared for.

The woman was intimidatingly beautiful.

She had an allure to her that the beast inside me found irresistible, and so did I. The fact that she rode a motorcycle only added to the layers of her intrigue and sexiness. This woman was so damn beautiful, she was like a fucking weapon. She had me dumbfounded and ready to do anything she asked at the drop of a pin.

"Hey," she called out, a smile stretching across her face as she slid off her bike and walked toward me.

"Hey yourself." I returned her smile and stepped outside to greet her. "Have any trouble finding the place?"

"Nope." She glanced around, soaking in my sanctuary before settling her gaze back on me. "It's nice here. Quiet."

Those eyes. Damn. I'd always been a sucker for a beautiful pair of eyes, and this woman, she had a set that saw straight through to my soul.

"Thanks," I managed, my nerves tightening my throat. "I hope you're hungry."

"As a bear," she said with a laugh.

Did she know what I was? Could she sense the beast within me?

As a faint blush tinted her cheeks, I became aware of the shocked expression on my face.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked, swiping at her face. "Is my hair standing up? Messy hair is a given when you wear a helmet, so is helmet hair." She smoothed her already perfect hair down with her hand.

"No, you're fine. I was just thinking about something," I replied, offering her a reassuring smile.

My beast should be storming around inside me, irritated with me, but he wasn't. Instead, he was cool as a cucumber. It was because of her. I knew that much.

"Oh?" she pressed.

I waved her question away. "It was nothing. Do you want to come inside?"

"Sure."

As we stepped inside the cabin, I watched her take in the place. Her eyes darted around, soaking in the space I'd always considered just enough for me. It was minimalist to a fault, something I'd never thought much about until attempting to see it through her eyes.

"You're not much of a decorator, are you?" she teased, a playful smirk twisting her lips when she glanced at me.

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Guilty as charged. Never saw much need for it, to be honest."

She laughed, moving farther into the cabin. "I can't say much about the size. I mean, it is bigger than my place. Also, it has its charm. It's very... you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. It's got that mountain man vibe going, same as you." She grinned.

I chuckled. "Good to know."

"Dinner smells amazing, by the way." She closed her eyes and inhaled. "Is that chicken?"

I nodded. "Roasted chicken with garlic and rosemary. I also made buttered baked potatoes and steamed vegetables."

"And he can cook," she said, before giving me a once-over that made heat simmer through my core.

Those eyes …

"I used to love doing it," I said, regaining control over my thoughts.

"What changed?"

I ran a hand through my hair, unsure how to answer. "Me."

It was the simplest answer I could give, but also the most honest. Miranda nodded as though she understood, and there was a part of me that thought she might.

"Ready to eat?" I asked, motioning to the tiny table in the corner I'd already set for us.

She nodded, and we moved to sit. While light conversation flowed between us, I got the impression she was holding back.

Was there something she wanted to share with me? Or was I projecting?

"How did you learn to cook like that?" she asked once we finished eating. "Everything was amazing."

"Mostly trial and error," I replied.

The food was a distraction from the conversations we both seemed to be tip-toeing around. I watched her, trying to figure out what she was hesitant to say. She wasn't the easiest to read.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" I asked without meaning to. The question just slipped out, and I couldn't take it back.

Her gaze locked with mine. "I could ask you the same thing." Her eyes softened, and then she asked the question that shook me to my core. "You're a bear shifter, aren't you?"

"How did you know?"

"Takes a shifter to know a shifter."

She'd spoken so nonchalantly, but her words jarred me, nonetheless. The directness she spoke with caught me off guard, sending my heart racing with a mixture of fear and relief.

Miranda already knew what I was—and yet here she still sat.

"You're a shifter too?" I asked, wondering if this was why I'd felt such a strong connection with her, because she was my kind.

No. My beast knew whatever this was I felt toward her went deeper than that.

"Yep," she said. "I am."

"A bear?"

She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "A panther."

Beneath the simplicity of her answer, I caught a hint of sadness weighing her words down. Did she not enjoy being a panther shifter?

"I'm also half witch," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"Half witch, huh? That makes sense. It's why you're so drawn to making natural lotions and skincare stuff," I mused.

"Something like that," she said. Her gaze turned thoughtful, almost inquisitive in the next heartbeat. "Are you a solitary bear, or do you have a clan?"

The question caught me off guard, touching a nerve I kept buried deep. "Solitary. Am I supposed to have a clan?" I asked, unsure. "Until just now, I didn't realize there were others in town cursed like me."

"Cursed?" Her brows knitted together.

"Isn't that what this is? A curse?" I couldn't help the bitterness that seeped into my words.

Cursed was the only word that felt appropriate for the turmoil that had upended my life the night I was given my beast.

"How did you get your bear?" she asked, and I swore there was worry wrapped around her words.

The memory filled my head as clear as if it happened yesterday.

"I used to be a forest ranger. One day while roaming the woods, I came across an old man by the river," I started, seeing the scene playing out in my head all over again. "He wasn't right. There was something about him that looked off. I offered to help him to his feet when I couldn't get him to talk to me, and he went crazy on me. He bit me, and then he ran off. It burned," I paused, the memory of the pain so acute it was almost tangible. "It felt like fire, like I was dying. Eventually, I passed out from the pain, and when I woke, it was to a beast inside me. Wouldn't you call that cursed?"

My beast stirred, making his way closer to the surface. He didn't like what I'd said—the way I called him a curse, but I didn't care.

I never had.

"Ethan," she said softly, reaching to cover my hand with hers. Electricity sparked beneath my skin when we touched and my beast calmed. Her touch was magic. "Your bear isn't a curse. He's a part of you. A companion. An ally. You might not have gained him in the best of ways, but everything happens for a reason. You were meant to be a bear shifter, and he was always meant to be yours."

Even though I hated to admit it, a part of me felt she was right. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I'd finally found solid ground.

Miranda was that solid ground.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips against hers, and felt a rush of warmth flood me. My bear stirred. When her lips responded beneath mine, a fire ignited within me. Cupping her face, I deepened the kiss and everything that plagued my mind melted away, leaving only thoughts of her.

She was a lifeline.

This woman grounded me into a reality where she was all that mattered. I knew then, with absolute certainty, she was my missing piece.

"Wait," she whispered, breaking away all too soon.

Fear I had moved too fast and misread her signals spiraled through me. When I locked eyes with her, the look in them was a mixture of confusion, hesitation, and something else I couldn't quite name.

She leaned back, tearing her gaze from mine. "I'm sorry," she whispered, smoothing a hand across her forehead.

"Don't be. That was all me," I said, holding myself fully responsible. "I shouldn't have."

"No. It's not that…"

I could see the thoughts spinning through her head. Not wanting to hear what she said next, I changed the subject.

"I have a surprise for you," I said.

She blinked. "A surprise?"

I stood and held out a hand to her. "Come on. You said you wanted to see my workshop and the other pieces I've made. Plus, that's where the surprise is."

"Oh, okay." She took my hand, and we made our way outside.

Even with her hand in mine, I could tell her mind was miles away. Something was weighing on her again, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my impulsive kiss had worsened it.

"This place is amazing," she said, releasing my hand as she glanced around my workshop.

I crammed my hands into my front pockets. "Thanks." My gaze dipped to the wooden steps I'd built for her camper. I moved to stand next to them. "These are for you."

"The steps?"

"Yeah. They're for your camper." I smoothed a hand along the back of my neck. "I don't like the idea of you stepping on that rickety ass cinderblock all the time. It's dangerous."

My bear felt the same. He growled in agreement.

"I can't believe you built these," she said, bending to look closer at them.

"Do you like the botanical design I burned into the sides? If not, I can sand them down. It wouldn't take long."

Her fingertip traced over one of the leaves. "That's what I love about them most." She looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine. "How did you know what size to make them?"

"Easy," I said, folding my arms over my chest while holding her stare. "I've worked with wood all my life."

A playful grin twisted her lips as she stood to her full height. "There's a joke in there somewhere, but I'm a classy girl, so…"

I laughed. A deep, rich, belly laugh. When she joined in, I knew we were going to be okay. I hadn't screwed things up by kissing her. Before either of us could say anything more, a sudden unease settled over me, stemming from my bear. It took all of two seconds flat for me to see the same had happened to Miranda.

Something wasn't right.

"You feel that, too?" I asked, my bear's senses sharpening.

She stepped outside without a word, and I moved with her. Together, we scanned the edge of the thick woods that surrounded my workshop.

My eyes caught movement.

A man stood there. He was barely discernible among the trees, but my bear could make him out.

"Hey," I shouted to him. "What are you doing up here? This is private property."

"Lucius," Miranda whispered, causing my attention to dip to her.

"You know him?"

She nodded. "I should have told you about him sooner."

There was a tremor in her voice I didn't like hearing. Neither did my bear.

Was she scared of him? Was he an ex?

I stepped in front of her, blocking her from his view. My bear's protective instincts had gone into overdrive. The man's name meant nothing to me, but the way Miranda said it told me all I needed to know.

Whoever this guy was, he was bad news.

"You need to get out of here," Miranda said, moving to step in front of me.

At first, I thought she was talking to the man standing in my woods, staring at us, but then I realized she was talking to me. She wanted me to leave.

Was she nuts?

There was no way I was leaving her to deal with this guy alone.

"I'm not going anywhere," I grumbled, my bear feeling the same.

"Ethan," she said, rounding on me. "I'm not kidding. You need to leave. I can handle him."

I didn't mean to, but I grinned at her. "This is my house, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. If you're fighting him, then so am I."

A surge of protectiveness unlike anything I'd ever felt before rushed through me. My bear grew close to the surface. He wanted out, but I knew I needed to hold him off. The time would come, but right now wasn't it. I needed to see how this all unfolded first.

"What do you want?" I shouted, my gaze fixed on the shadowy figure of the man lurking in the woods.

He stepped forward. Right away, I knew I'd been right in thinking this man was bad news. Pure evil rippled from him in waves. Miranda tensed as he approached, and my bear demanded to be released.

I shifted to stand in front of her again.

"Stay behind me," I muttered.

A sinister chuckle sliced through the night from the man—Lucius, hadn't that been his name?—sending shivers down my spine.

"What's this? Playing hero?" His voice was cold, taunting, and challenging all at once.

It had my bear roaring through my skull, responding to the threat in his tone.

"I won't let you hurt her," I growled, the words not sounding remotely human.

The line between my man and my beast had blurred dangerously.

Miranda gripped my arm. "Ethan, you really should leave. He's dangerous."

I ignored her, keeping my eyes on Lucius. His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes never wavered from me.

"What will you do? Unleash the beast? Let's see how protective your bear really is, shall we?" he insisted.

"You should leave before you find out," I warned through clenched teeth.

Lucius laughed, not phased in the slightest, and I wondered what the hell he was. My bear could sense he was a shifter, but he couldn't pinpoint what kind. All I knew was he scared Miranda.