Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“ T here’s the sign to camp!” Archie yelled, his nose plastered to the bus window. “Look, Paige, we’re nearly there!”

Paige wished she shared her little brother’s enthusiasm. For his sake, she forced a smile, while her stomach twisted into an even tighter knot.

“That’s great, Archie, but try not to get so excited. You don’t want to lose control and shift again.” She was already covered in russet fur, having spent the better part of the long, bumpy trip trying to restrain a hyperactive grizzly bear cub. “Take a deep breath and settle down, okay?”

“I don’t wanna settle down!” Archie bounced in his seat. “I wanna get to camp!”

He was fidgeting even more than usual, every part of his body in constant motion. That was usually the warning sign to bundle him away fast as possible. Out of reflex, Paige cast a nervous glance at their fellow passengers—but of course, none of the other camp counselors showed the slightest sign of curiosity.

They were all shifters themselves, after all. She was the odd one out here.

Still, she didn’t want Archie turning into a bear yet again. Camp Thunderbird was a safe place for shifters, but that didn’t mean the kids were supposed to constantly turn into their animal form. She needed her brother to be on his best behavior this summer.

Paige sharpened her voice, adopting her well-practiced ‘this is your last warning’ tone. “Calm down, Archie. Otherwise I’ll make you hold my hand when we get to camp.”

The terrible threat worked. Archie subsided, shooting her a mulish look.

“You’d better not,” he muttered, one foot kicking at the floor. “I don’t want anyone finding out that you’re my sister.”

Privately, Paige didn’t think there was much risk of that. Few people expected a ten-year-old to have a sister in her late twenties. And it wasn’t like there was much family resemblance between them. Though they’d both inherited their mom’s unruly chestnut hair and stubborn jawline, Archie took more after his dad.

Or at least, Paige assumed he did. It wasn’t like she’d ever met the man.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone we’re related,” she said. “Though you realize it’s not a secret, right? The director knows, and I expect he’ll have mentioned it to the other staff.”

“I don’t care about the grown-ups. I just don’t want the other kids figuring it out.” Archie drew up his legs, wrapping his arms around his knees. “It’s embarrassing, having to come to camp with my sister.”

“It’s not that unusual. I bet lots of the other kids have siblings at camp too.”

Archie picked at the frayed laces of his sneakers. “Yeah, but not working there.”

“It’s the only way we could afford to send you back to Camp Thunderbird this summer, Archie. You know that.”

She’d stumbled across mention of Camp Thunderbird last spring, in her increasingly desperate attempt to find anyone with the same strange abilities as her brother. Shifters were careful about what they posted online—and even more wary about responding to messages from strangers—but she’d finally managed to confirm that yes, it really was a summer camp exclusively for kids who turned into animals.

Unfortunately, it also wasn’t cheap. Last summer, Paige and her mom had barely scraped together enough cash to pay the eye-watering fees. They’d warned Archie it would have to be a one-off. But he’d come home so full of tales about his wonderful adventures, and begging to go back again…and as it had turned out, there was one way he could.

Normally, Paige wouldn’t have dreamed of taking a break from her usual office temping to work at a summer camp, let alone one for magical beings. But they didn’t know any other shifters back home. Camp Thunderbird was the only place Archie could meet kids like himself. Even more importantly, it was somewhere he could learn from adult shifters.

And now, more than ever, he had to get better control over his bear.

“We’re lucky the director is letting me pay your fees by working as a counselor,” she continued. “Promise you won’t waste this opportunity, okay? I know you love all the hiking and outdoor stuff, but you need to spend time working on your shifting as well.”

“I don’t need help with that,” Archie said indignantly. “I’m awesome at being a bear. I can run and climb and dig up all kinds of neat bugs.”

Paige repressed a sigh. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Archie scowled at his sneakers. “You don’t get it. Being a bear is way better than being human. If you could shift, you’d do it all the time too.”

“Not when I was supposed to be doing other things. Like an algebra test, for example.”

“That was one time!”

“And it was one time too many.” She rubbed at her forehead. “Look, I do want you to have fun this summer. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to hang out with your friends. But you need to spend time learning from your counselors, too. I’m sure they’ll be able to give you advice on controlling your bear.”

“Extra lessons, and my sister at camp,” Archie muttered. “Worst. Summer. Ever.”

I don’t want to be here either, little bro. But she couldn’t say that to Archie. She was his big sister. It was her job to take care of him, no matter what. And she didn’t want him to worry about her. Or anything else, for that matter.

She put on a more upbeat tone . “Hey, it won’t be so bad. It’s not like I’ll be supervising you and your friends. I asked the director to assign me to the older campers. We’ll have completely different schedules and activities, so you don’t need to worry that I’ll cramp your style.”

Archie perked up. “Yeah, I bet we won’t even see each other all summer!”

“Gee, thanks,” Paige said dryly. “And here I was worrying that you were going to miss me.”

“Nah, I’ll be too busy with my friends,” Archie said, demonstrating his usual tact. He sat up straighter, adopting a serious expression. “Okay. If this is our last chance to talk for a while, we’d better go over the rules.”

Paige blinked at him. This was new. Normally she was the one trying to coach Archie on expected behavior, while he wriggled and fidgeted and paid no attention whatsoever.

“I already know the rules, Archie,” she said. “I made you read the camp handbook with me, remember?”

“Not those rules,” Archie said, his tone making it clear that only losers cared about things like the actual camp regulations. “I mean rules for you, since you’re just a boring ol’ regular person rather than a shifter like everyone else. I don’t want you to embarrass me by doing something human .”

“Archie, everyone already knows I’m not a shifter. Director Zephyr made a point of discussing that with me during my interview.”

At great length, in fact. From what he’d told her, this was the first year any non-shifter would be working at the camp—at least officially. Apparently, last summer there had been some mix-up with a regular human being hired as a counselor. Paige had no idea how that could have happened, but at least it had resulted in a change to the camp’s rules.

“Yeah, but you gotta know about shifter stuff, or you’ll never fit in,” Archie said earnestly, as though there was any chance of her ever ‘fitting in’ with a bunch of magical shapeshifters. “First, don’t ask anyone about their animal. That’s super rude.”

“Really?” Paige hadn’t known that. Maybe Archie actually had useful information for once. “How do you know that?”

“Because I asked Honey about her animal, and Beth overheard and yelled at me.” Archie screwed up his face. “Which I thought was just, you know, Beth being Beth, but then I asked Finley about his animal, and he went all quiet and then said that wasn’t the sort of thing you should ask people. And I thought maybe he was just embarrassed about his animal, because he never shifted—though I still don’t get why, because he’s like, the coolest animal ever, except for a bear. So then I asked Claire what kind of shifter she was, and she said?—”

“I get the picture,” Paige said, finally managing to jam a word into the usual Archie torrent. “To save time, is there anyone you didn’t ask this super rude question?”

“We’re getting off-topic,” Archie informed her. “Second, don’t stare at people’s butts.”

“Archie, that’s rude anywhere, not just at shifter summer camp.”

“Yeah, but at Camp Thunderbird, you’ll see a ton of naked butts.” Archie sounded distinctly pleased by this. “I mean, we’re supposed to go somewhere private to shift if we can’t transform our clothes, but nobody does that except the counselors. So basically, butts everywhere.”

This did not sound any different to her everyday life. By now, Paige could have picked her little brother’s bare—or bear—rear end out of a police line-up. Even with all the Spandex shorts their mom had made for him, he still managed to misplace his clothes on a daily basis.

“I will try not to be shocked by random public nudity,” she said. “Any other pearls of wisdom to bestow upon me?”

Archie ticked items off on his fingers. “Don’t run on the dock, because the lifeguard lady is super strict and kind of scary. Don’t take cookies from the kitchen, even if the door isn’t locked and they’re sitting out right where anyone can see them. Don’t leap out at someone as a joke, because you might scare them into shifting, which is a problem if they turn out to be a wooly mammoth and you’re in the bathroom.”

“I cannot help but note that these all seem remarkably specific.”

“ I didn’t do any of them,” Archie said quickly. “I’m just letting you know. In case you were, say, thinking about trapping a neat rat in an empty ice cream carton so you could bring it to campfire circle to show everyone, and only later discover that the counselors have spent all afternoon hunting for Maisie from Maple cabin.”

Paige bit back a groan. “Archie…”

“That was a hypno—hippo—hyperthetical example.”

“Hypothetical. And no, it wasn’t.”

“How was I supposed to know she was a camper?” Archie protested. “It’s not like she was wearing a teeny tiny rat-sized camp t-shirt. And I put a huge piece of cheese in there with her, so she wasn’t mad about it. She didn’t even tell on me. Anyway, just assume any animal you see is probably a kid.”

“I will restrain my natural desire to pick up random wildlife. Is that it?”

“No. And this is the most important rule of all, so pay attention.” Archie jabbed his finger at her, punctuating each word. “Absolutely. No. Mating.”

Paige was used to conversations with Archie taking an abrupt turn into the bizarre. This, however, was overly unexpected even for her little brother. She stared at him, sucker-punched into silence.

“Oh, right. You probably don’t know about mating.” Archie drew in a deep breath. “Basically, it’s when a man puts his?—”

“I know what mating is!” Paige hissed. She glanced nervously at their fellow passengers again. “And keep your voice down!”

“Why?” Archie said, loud enough to carry the entire length of the bus. “Mating is a beautiful and natural way that grown-ups express their love for each other. That’s what Honey said, when I asked her about it. Then Buck had a really big coughing fit and she had to go get him some water.”

“I think I’m going to need to have a word with your former counselors,” Paige muttered. She hadn’t expected his last summer at camp to have been quite that educational. “I hope this time you really are talking hypothetically.”

“Nope.” Archie shook his head in emphasis. “Buck and Honey got the mating fever last summer. They got it bad .”

She was definitely going to need to talk to Buck and Honey. And possibly the director. Paige was beginning to wonder if it had been a good idea to send Archie back to Camp Thunderbird after all.

“Uh,” she said, hoping that she’d somehow misunderstood. “And by mating fever, you mean… what, exactly?”

“They went all…” Archie wrinkled his nose. “Mushy.”

“Mushy?”

Archie nodded solemnly. “Yeah. It was like more of their brains dribbled out their ears every day. It wasn’t too bad at first, but by the end of the summer, they were always sneaking glances at each other, or finding excuses to hold hands. This one time, I actually saw Buck give Honey flowers.”

“I see.” Paige did her best to look grave. “Clearly a tragic case of degenerative illness.”

Archie glared at her. “You aren’t taking this seriously, Paige!”

“Believe me, I’m taking this exactly as seriously as it deserves.”

“You’d better.” Archie folded his arms. “Mating fever is no joke. Especially for shifter men. If a shifter catches it and doesn’t claim his mate in time, he can literally die.”

“Archie, no matter what other boys might tell you, men cannot actually die from that.”

“Shifter men can! You should have seen Buck! He kept stomping around all cranky and growly.” Archie paused, brow furrowing. “Even more cranky and growly than usual, I mean. If we hadn’t helped them out, he probably would have exploded.”

This couldn’t possibly be a real thing… could it? A tiny thread of doubt wound through Paige’s amusement. She was hardly an expert on shifters. Until a couple of years ago, she hadn’t even known they existed.

“Where did you learn all this?” she asked cautiously.

“From the other kids at camp. They told me all about mates and mating fever and all that stuff.” Archie’s chest swelled with pride. “Though I could tell them a lot too, because they didn’t know how the mate bond actually gets made. But I figured it out. It’s all down to the special shifter man glue.”

“The special…?” Paige cut herself off, deciding she was happier not knowing. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about me catching, um, mating fever. I’m not a shifter.”

“But humans get it too! Honey did. All it takes is one look, and bam!” Archie smacked his fist into his palm. “You’re doomed.”

“So what do you want me to do? Walk around with my eyes closed?”

“No, you’d bump into things.” Archie frowned. “I know a shifter can only give it to you when they look into your eyes, though. Maybe you could wear sunglasses all the time.”

“I don’t think that’s very practical, Archie.” She cast around for some way to reassure him. “Look, you really don’t need to worry about this. You know me, I hardly ever get sick. In the unlikely event that I do somehow get mating fever, I’m sure I can fight it off.”

“Buck couldn’t,” Archie said darkly. “And he’s like, the toughest, baddest alpha ever.”

“Well, he’s a man, and you said men get it worse. Come on, Archie. This is me we’re talking about. Your big sister. You know I’m not interested in mushy stuff.”

This was stretching the truth a bit. Sometimes she would have liked a little ‘mushy stuff’ in her life. It just hadn’t been practical, even before her little brother had started turning into a bear.

Archie chewed on his lower lip. “You swear that if some guy gives you a funny look, you’ll tell me straight away?”

“I swear,” Paige said, privately thinking that this was one of the easier promises she’d ever made to her little brother. “Since you’re the expert on all this.”

“Okay then.” Archie squared his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Paige. Any guy bothers you, just tell me and I’ll sort him out. Since I’m the only shifter in the family, it’s my job to protect you.”

Smothering a smile, Paige pulled him into a sidelong, one-armed hug. “I’m lucky to have such a big, powerful bear for a brother.”

“Paaaaaaaaige!” Archie squirmed against her side. “Not in front of everyone!”

“Sorry.” She released him. “I’ll add that to the list of camp rules. No hugs.”

Archie straightened his faded camp t-shirt like a politician adjusting his tie. “Not in public, anyway. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, you know.”

With a squeal of brakes, the bus bumped to a halt. The doors hissed open, letting in a waft of clean, pine-scented air. Voices rose in anticipation all around them as staff members started gathering up their bags.

“We’re here!” Archie leaped to his feet. “I gotta go find my friends. Promise you’ll hang back a while, okay? We don’t want anyone to see us coming in together.”

“One of us doesn’t, at least,” Paige muttered as Archie dashed off without waiting for a response. “Anyone would think you were doing me a favor.”

Still, she couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to be seen with his boring big sister. And she was here for him. If what he needed was for her to stay out of his way, then that’s what she’d do.

Besides, if she was honest, she was hardly in a hurry to rush into camp herself. Archie had his friends from last summer, but she didn’t know anyone here. She didn’t think shifters would be in a hurry to welcome one lone, awkward human.

Not that it mattered. She wasn’t coming to camp to make friends. She was only here for her brother.

She took her time over gathering up her own things, dawdling as other staff members piled out. By the time she stepped off the bus, everyone else was already long gone. Settling her backpack on her shoulders, she glanced around, trying to get her bearings.

Paige hadn’t really known what to expect. Archie’s descriptions of the camp had been enthusiastic, but muddled. He could relate in excruciating detail every single spider he’d seen during the previous summer, but not anything as prosaic as the camp layout.

She’d managed to gather that there was a central area (“with buildings and stuff, I guess”) where the dining hall and main office were located. Further out from that were groups of smaller cabins (“just, like, normal cabins”) for campers and counselors. The camp had forest (“with real trees!”) to one side, and a lake on the other. There was, she had deduced from much patient questioning, a mountain.

Nothing Archie had said had prepared her for this .

Lush green meadows spread out before her, filled with bright drifts of wildflowers. Cozy log cabins lay in scattered groups, so artfully arranged that they seemed a natural part of the landscape.

Beyond the cabins, meadow gave way to well-maintained forest, with shafts of sunlight streaming between towering pines. The trees swayed in the breeze, leaning together as though whispering secrets. High above, the cloud-wreathed peak of Thunder Mountain watched over the camp like some remote, benign god.

Paige breathed in that fresh, wild air, and felt a strange tug at her heart. For a moment, she couldn’t help imagining what it might have been like if she’d had the chance to come to such a place when she’d been Archie’s age. To stand here knowing that one of those cute cabins would be her home for the summer, a place to whisper and giggle and swap contraband candy. To look forward to catching up with old friends, and making new ones. To spend the summer roaming those whispering woods in perfect freedom, as much a part of the wild as the mountain and the sky.

But she was coming to camp as staff, not a camper. Paige shook herself, dismissing the ridiculous daydream. She was here to work, not have fun.

Shouldering her backpack, she headed into camp. It wasn’t hard to find her way around. Signs pointed her to a cluster of large buildings lining a wide central square. A huge fire pit ringed with log benches dominated the middle of the space.

The whole area teemed with activity. Most people were just milling around, greeting new arrivals with squeals and hugs. Others cut through the crowd more purposefully, arms piled high with boxes or bags. If it was this busy with just the staff on site, Paige could only imagine the sheer chaos when the campers got here.

She hesitated on the edge of the square, feeling even more out-of-place than she had on the bus. Everyone seemed ridiculously tall and stacked, like she’d wandered into a convention for professional sportswear models. Even if she hadn’t already known she was the only human on site, she would have felt like an imposter.

As if to underscore the point, two winged wolves swept overhead, their shadows skimming across the ground. One was a deep, stormy gray, sparks of electricity crackling between its feathers. The other wolf was smaller, with wings that glowed with golden light.

Some of the staff waved up at the flying wolves as they soared past, calling out greetings. Most people just carried on about their business, as though winged wolves were as common as pigeons.

Right . With an effort, Paige managed to shut her mouth. Just a couple of counselors arriving for work. Nothing to see here.

Which reminded her she should report for work too. According to the letter she’d received along with her employment contract, she was supposed to report to the head counselor on arrival. Paige scanned the buildings, trying to figure out which one was the office—and her gaze snagged on a man.

Even surrounded by people who looked like a living Instagram feed, he stood out. It wasn’t just his height or lean, muscled build. It wasn’t even his red-gold hair, bright as polished copper in the morning sunlight.

Any one of those things would have been eye-catching enough. But none of them were what made her stop dead, staring.

That was the suit.

The day was already scorching, with the humidity climbing fast. Paige felt enough of a sweaty mess in her camp t-shirt and cut-off denim shorts.

Yet the man was, without the slightest hint of discomfort, wearing a suit.

And not just any suit. From the way the sleek black fabric perfectly accentuated every inch of his body, it must have been made to his measurements. His pants alone were probably worth more than she was.

He was pacing back and forth in front of a small building, phone clamped to his ear. He could have been some high-powered executive, striding around a top-floor boardroom while negotiating a billion-dollar deal.

Except… this was a summer camp .

He seemed so unselfconscious about his bizarre appearance that Paige had to glance around to make sure she hadn’t taken a wrong turn and somehow stepped onto Wall Street. Rustic log cabins, trees, mountain—definitely a summer camp.

And yet still, inexplicably, a man in a suit.

He couldn’t have looked more out of place if he’d been dressed in a diving helmet and a tutu. Yet no one else seemed to find his presence remarkable. As she watched, one of the staff members hurried up to him, holding out a clipboard and pen. The man in the suit scanned the offered documents, scrawled something across them, and waved the young woman away, all while talking into his phone without pause.

From his general air of casual dominance, he clearly wasn’t a visitor. He definitely wasn’t the head counselor, but she couldn’t see anyone else who looked like they might be in charge. Maybe he could point her in the right direction. Swallowing a flutter of nerves, she headed across the square.

“…no, that is not an acceptable substitution,” he was saying into his phone as she approached. He paused with his back to her, muscular shoulders bunching under his suit jacket. “We’ll have children on site with allergies. You might as well send us delicious treats laced with nourishing arsenic.”

Paige hesitated, not wanting to interrupt. The man didn’t turn, but he was clearly aware of her presence. He held up a finger in a ‘one minute’ gesture, still concentrating on his conversation.

“I expect fourteen cases of nut free cookies on our doorstep within three working days, at an additional three percent discount for the inconvenience. Or would you like me to reconsider this supply contract? Then sort it out.” He lowered the phone, only to tap the screen and raise it to his ear again. In a very different tone, he said, “Ah, Lord Golden. Always a delight to hear from you. To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

Paige couldn’t hear the reply, but the man didn’t seem to think much of it. He swiveled on his heel, which put him in profile to her. This close, he was even more handsome than he’d appeared from a distance, with model-sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. Right now, his perfect lips were pressed together in clear irritation.

“But of course,” he said, his smooth voice totally at odds with his body language. He had a slight, lilting accent—Irish, she realized. “None of us want a repeat of the unfortunate circumstances last year. I’ll see to it personally. Now, I wouldn’t dream of taking up any more of your valuable time, so if that’s all…? Indeed. Thank you for your continued patronage. Arrogant arsehole.”

This last was muttered under his breath. The man turned toward her, though he didn’t take his eyes off his phone. Typing rapidly with both thumbs, he asked, “Yes? What do you need?”

She cleared her throat, mouth dry. He really was ridiculously good-looking. And tall. She was just about on eye level with the knot of his tie. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can find someone else if you’re busy.”

The man snorted, still engrossed in his work. He had beautiful hands, she couldn’t help noticing. “This isn’t busy, this is Tuesday. You must be new here. How can I help you?”

The supernaturally fast movements of those strong, agile hands were so hypnotic, it took her a moment to remember. “My name’s Paige Brown. I’m supposed to report to the head counselor. Could you tell me where to find her?”

“She’s in the dining hall. Look for the blonde woman with a clipboard, you can’t miss her.” The man abruptly snapped his fingers, as if he’d just remembered something. “Damn, I almost forgot. Wait a moment.”

He looked up from his phone at last; just a quick, casual glance.

Their eyes met.

And suddenly, Archie’s warnings about ‘mating fever’ seemed a lot more plausible.