6. Ben

6

BEN

I flipped off the lights in the lobby of the clinic and locked the door behind me as I headed to my truck. My thoughts weren’t on the animals I’d treated today or the paperwork waiting for me tomorrow.

They were on Sienna.

I hadn’t heard from her since lunch. It shouldn’t have been a big deal—we barely knew each other—but it bothered me more than I cared to admit. She’d been distracted, her usual spark dimmed by something she wasn’t saying. Her smile had been there, but her mind had been somewhere else entirely.

I could feel it.

Had I said something wrong? Done something to push her away? Or was she hiding something she didn’t trust me enough to share?

The uncertainty of what was going on gnawed at me, refusing to let up. Before I could second-guess myself, I cranked my truck to life and started toward The Caffeinated Fox on impulse. As I drove, I replayed our lunch in my head, picking it apart. My gut told me there was something big she was dealing with that she didn’t want me to know.

By the time I pulled up to the coffee shop, the windows were dark, and the ‘Closed’ sign hung in the door. I sighed, about to turn the truck around, when the door opened.

Sienna stepped out and locked the door behind her with a quick, sharp movement. She glanced around, almost as though she was checking for something—or someone. My chest tightened as I watched her hurry toward her car, her steps quick. She looked nervous. Maybe even scared.

Instinct kicked in, and a protective pull I couldn’t quite explain dug into me.

“What are you doing, Ben?” I muttered while gripping the steering wheel tighter as I eased out of my parking spot to follow her.

I kept a safe distance, rationalizing with myself that what I was doing wasn’t creepy. All I wanted to do was make sure she was okay because the look on her face as she speedwalked to her car—combined with the way she’d acted at lunch—suggested she wasn’t.

Something was going on, and whatever it was, I felt concerned for her safety.

As the familiar streets of downtown gave way to quieter roads, I realized she was headed to the outskirts of town.

Why?

There wasn’t much out here except for dense woods and silence so thick it felt alive. As Sienna’s car slowed, I instinctively pulled off the road, parking a good distance behind her. Her taillights glowed faintly ahead, cutting through the shadowy forest until she finally came to a stop.

I killed the engine of my truck and climbed out, keeping my movements quiet as I crept closer. She hadn’t heard me yet—maybe because the sound of her car masked any noise I made. Or maybe her focus was so fixed on whatever brought her out here that she wasn’t paying attention.

Either way, I wasn’t taking any chances of spooking her, so I remained as quiet as I could.

Staying low, I watched as she stepped out of her car. The interior lights flicked on for a brief moment, illuminating her. When she closed the door and headed toward the woods, my chest tightened.

What are you doing out here, Sienna?

Her gaze was locked on the tree line as she slipped into the forest without hesitation.

Was she planning to hike out here this late at night? Alone? In the pitch black darkness?

I slinked through the woods after her, watching as she moved like a predator with purpose.

It was unnerving and, at the same time, strangely mesmerizing to see.

Logic told me to stop. To go back to my truck, drive home, and forget I’d ever followed her. But instinct screamed at me louder, urging me forward. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was happening here, something I wasn’t supposed to see—but now I couldn’t turn around and go home.

Each step I took was painstakingly slow. My whole body was taut as I tried to avoid crunching leaves or snapping twigs beneath my boots while I followed her. We hadn’t walked far when she paused. My chest constricted as she glanced around, searching the shadows.

What was she looking for?

It was clear she was still on edge.

When she shucked off her jacket, my brows furrowed. Then she pulled at the hem of her shirt and peeled out of it. I looked away, shocked to see she was undressing. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to my gut and followed her out here.

What was she doing?

While it wasn’t freezing out, it was still cold.

What would possess her to drive all the way out here to the middle of nowhere and strip down to her birthday suit?

It didn’t make sense.

My gaze remained on my boots, offering her some sense of privacy even though she didn’t know I was out here with her. However, as a strange energy filled the air, my gaze lifted.

One minute, Sienna stood bare under the moonlight and the next, her form shimmered almost like heat rising off asphalt on a hot summer day. Her body folded in on itself, and fur rippled over her skin, sprouting all over. When it was over, a red fox with a bushy tail stood in her place.

I blinked, my mind scrambling to make sense of what I’d seen. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Sienna was a fox.

An actual, living, breathing fox.

Her coat was stunning—rich auburn fur tipped with white at her tail and paws. She was small, but I could sense strength in her. And her eyes were the same sharp, intelligent eyes I’d come to recognize, except now they watched the woods with a predatory focus.

I crouched lower behind the brush I stood near, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure she could hear it, while I continued to stare at her. The logical part of my brain tried to string together some explanation for what I’d seen, something that would make this moment fit into the world I thought I knew.

But it was impossible.

Sienna had transformed into a fox right in front of my eyes. My mind raced, replaying every interaction we’d ever had. The way she seemed so sharp, so attuned to everything around her and the things that she said. The way she’d moved through the woods earlier, quiet, surefooted, and mesmerizing.

It all made sense now.

And yet, it didn’t.

I swallowed hard, gripping the bark of a nearby tree to steady myself. The shock I felt was one thing, but what unsettled me even more was the awe that came with it. Sienna had obliterated the rules of reality—of physics—and somehow, instead of fear, all I felt toward her was wonder.

I focused on the beautiful fox cautiously making her way deeper into the woods. If I didn’t move soon, I’d lose her. Instinct kicked in again, and that undeniable pull I felt toward her lured me forward once more.