Cyn shook her head, certain of one thing. “Her posture. She was down, kneeling. Defenseless. Her hands were on her face, so unless she’s got daggers up her nose I don’t think she was hiding a weapon.”

“So you put your back to her, hoping I was the threat.”

“No. To protect a child.” She waved the stick at him. “Are we done with twenty questions now? I have places to be.” Bear butt to kick.

The man smiled, his teeth blindingly white, and held out his hand. The child took it, using her free one to wipe away her tears. “Look behind you. The path continues on. Know that the one you have set your feet upon will be difficult, but I believe it suits you.”

The man and the child both smiled at her and disappeared.

She turned and stared at the path. It was remarkably similar to the one she’d just left. “Peachy.”

God, part of her just wanted to lay down in the meadow and sleep, but she couldn’t. Again, if she faltered here the elusive something she needed would be lost. She had the feeling she would wake up in the real world, puking and completely human.

There was no real choice to make. Cyn put her foot on the path and cursed at the top of her lungs in both English and Spanish.

Hours, perhaps a day, passed, as more of Cyn’s skin was stripped away by the thorns. She was bleeding so badly now that if it hadn’t been a dream she was sure she would have died from the wounds. She ignored the few side paths that opened up to her, her only goal to move forward. Sheer determination kept her on her feet when she should have faltered.

The path opened before her and she sighed in relief. Too much more and she would have gone down, willing or not.

Her bare, bleeding feet met stone and she gasped. The feel of the cool stone was a balm to her sore soles. She wiggled her toes, almost wishing it were grass instead of stone.

When she was able to focus again, she almost sobbed. There, on a pedestal, was a shield, a sword, a set of leather biker gear, complete with boots, and the kind of staff she’d seen martial artists use.

“Gee. I wonder which one I should pick up.” She rolled her eyes and limped to the pedestal, the thorny branch she’d been clutching this entire time falling with a clatter to the ground. She sighed over the leather clothes, because, damn those were pretty. Too bad she couldn’t take more than one item. It was weird, the certainty she had that the moment she made her choice, all the other objects would disappear.

She reached for the staff as soon as it was within reach. As nice as the clothes were, all they would do was cover her nudity and protect her skin. That wouldn’t be enough, not against a shifter. The shield would keep her from being damaged, but that was all. She supposed she could ram someone with it, but she risked having it taken from her if she did. The sword was designed solely to do harm, with very little defense unless you were a professional fencer. Something Cyn definitely was not.

The staff, on the other hand… The staff could be both weapon and shield, and was just what she needed.

The clearing disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as the staff practically leapt into her hands. When she blinked her vision clear she found herself at the top of a cliff, overlooking a rocky sea. All of her wounds were healed, but she was still covered in her own gore.

Obstructing her view was a very large, very white bear.

Cyn clutched her staff. If this was the final test, she was in big trouble. “Hi.”

The bear snorted as if amused.

Right. “So. I’m here. Now what?”

The bear stared at her.

She leaned on the staff and stared right back.

The bear’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so hard.

Cyn lifted her foot and scratched the itchy, healed wound on the bottom.

The bear just sat there, blinking, as if it had all day to wait. If only she could figure out what it was waiting for, then they’d be golden.

“You want me to find you some honey? A cookie? Maybe a small, furry animal? You could hug it and love it and call it George.” She scratched at some of the dried blood on her stomach. “I could really use a shower.”

Water drenched her from a little black cloud that appeared over her head. She pushed her soaked hair out of her eyes and glared at the bear. “You’re funny. I should call you Baloo.”

The bear’s left shoulder twitched. She was willing to bet tomorrow’s lunch that it was laughing at her.

Julian grimaced as Cyn twisted painfully beneath the sheets. Shit. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d expected. She was reacting as if she was in pain, her body shuddering and sweating. His hands itched to heal a wound that wasn’t there. For the first time in his life Julian battled his Bear. There was nothing he could do for his mate. She was on her own.

A low moan drifted from her lips and his Bear turned frantic, striving to break through Julian’s control, to heal the damage that had to be there.

Shit. What the hell had Cyn done now?

“Thirty-six bottles of beer on the wall, thirty-six bottles of beer,” Cyn sang under her breath. She was lying on her back, staring at the clouds drifting lazily overhead. Her hair was almost dry, and she’d gotten most of the blood off her skin.

At her feet was the white bear. It still sat there, unmoving. Staring. It no longer creeped her out. Now it just…bored her.

“Julian is much quieter when he comes to visit me.”

Damn. I still had thirty-five bottles to go. “I bet. Super Bear isn’t much of a talker.” She leaned up on her elbows and blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Okay, that’s wrong. He talks, it just takes a while to get anything out of him that means something.”

The bear huffed out something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“See? You get what I’m talking about.”

“Yes. I understand more than you think.” The bear lumbered to its feet, its massive head hovering over her. Suddenly Cyn didn’t feel so much like a warrior as a late-night Taco Bell snack. “There are many things in store for you, Cynthia Reyes-DuCharme, and not all of them will be pleasant.”

Big bear head in the way or not, Cyn was on her feet, the staff in her hand, before the bear could blink. “Is Julian in danger?”

The bear was looking at her with approval. “Yes.”

Her heart stuttered. “Shit. I knew it.”

“So you did.” The bear’s head lifted; it sniffed the wind. “Change is coming, whether it is wanted or not. Two becomes one, one becomes three. Bear knows the way, but Fox holds the key.” Its eyes focused on her again. “Guard my child well, warrior. He will need you in the days to come.”

She nodded. Guarding Julian was a given. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“It is not permitted for me to tell more than I have. There are decisions that must be made on your own, decisions that will influence those that others will make. Your strength and courage will take you far, but do not dismiss what your heart tells you.”

“I’ll try.” It was the best she could offer.

“You will.” The bear began to glow. “It is time for you to return. Your mate is frantic with worry. He fights his Bear, fearing you are injured.”

Suddenly it all made sense. She’d heard Julian discuss Bear as a person rather than some amorphous concept. “Wait. You’re—”

She was hurtled into the darkness, her question unasked and unanswered.

Chapter Twelve

She took a deep, gasping breath, and Julian sagged with relief. She was all right.

Her eyes opened, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. They were deep brown and frightened. He wrapped himself around her cold body and breathed in her scent.