7. Sofia

7

Sofia

S he had no idea a male could be as patient as Levi had been. Maybe it was because he was a professional. But he never got angry, and he never screamed. He did seem frustrated sometimes, but he was also so considerate.

Sofia finally worked up the nerve to try to shift. Levi was fast asleep, about ten feet away from her. She snuggled under the warm blanket and closed her eyes.

Nothing happened.

She’d heard Levi speaking on the phone. He’d tried to stay far enough away that she wouldn’t hear, but he’d paced while he talked, and he’d gotten within hearing range. She’d heard his questions.

She could only hear bits and pieces of the person on the other end, but she could tell it was a female witch. He’d called her for advice. She’d heard the words poison and curse. At the time, she’d discounted them both. Sofia had chosen this form, no one else. She’d done it after nearly losing her mind in San Francisco, more than a week after she’d escaped the wolves’ compound.

What if the wolves had poisoned her?

What if they had cursed her?

Was that possible? The witch on the phone seemed to think so.

Sofia squeezed her eyes shut. Would it never end? Would she ever get a break? It had taken her days to work up the nerve to try and shift, and now that she’d done it, it didn’t work.

She sucked in air, which was weird to do as a bear. Of all the human traits that had faded, she wished panic was one of them. But the claustrophobic, suffocating, overwhelming squeezing of her lungs stayed the same. She would try again. She owed Levi that much. He could have ignored her, shot her, or had her hauled off by whatever kind of wildlife authority they had here in Texas. But he’d tried to understand what was wrong with her instead. He’d done everything in his power to help her.

No one had ever done that for her before. Not even her family, or her clan.

She had to keep trying.

Again. Nothing happened.

Shifting was like breathing by the time they were older cubs. It was second nature; there was no effort in it, there was no reason to try . Only toddlers had to think about it, or bears who were gravely injured. She was neither. So, this had to work.

She flung the blanket off and stood up. She was a bear, not a worm. She was supposed to be fierce and tough, dammit. If she wound up naked, then so be it. She wasn’t modest, but it was kind of Levi and his witch friend to think of it.

She tried again, and again and again.

Finally, she collapsed to the ground, groaning in defeat. She tried to stifle the sound, but it was too late. She’d woken Levi up.

He was already rolling over and getting to his feet. “Are you okay?” he asked. He started to move toward her and then stopped abruptly.

She couldn’t stand the kind concern in his eyes for another second.

She ran.