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He looked at the birthday cake, which said,Happy 3rd birthday, Michael and Samson.
Elation burst through Cyrus as the boys ran over and hugged him tightly.
Their small arms wrapped around Cyrus’s neck. Their weight was light but solid. And when he squeezed them back, warm offshoots of love spiraled through him. These were his boys. Or at least some version of them.
Cyrus knew now that they were a dream. He knew that Mila hadn’t aged in a few hours. But he saw that motherhood had made her more stunning and intelligent.
Cyrus beamed at his family.
The small moment in his future gave him the happiness he’d never imagined having. It was quiet. Peaceful. There was no tension or anxiety. He had let go of the past and made a path for his future.
But there was also a sense of completion in his chest. Cyrus wondered what he and Mila had gone through and what, if anything, they had found out about his parent’s murder.
In that moment, clarity that he could have both things washed over him.
It was washed away by a loudcrash.
“Wake up!” a voice shouted across the room.
Cyrus shot out of bed and was on his feet before the man standing before him could take another breath. The scent of another polar bear shifter in his bedroom with his mate spiked his adrenaline with fury.
Cyrus’s senses pumped. He could hear Mila’s blood thrumming through her veins. Her panic picked up. Her body scrambled back against the wall. Putting space between her and the attacker.
The polar bear inside of Cyrus heard Mila’s body contract in fear. It was ready to rip out of Cyrus. His fists clenched, and he released the roar from deep within his throat.
The walls shook. Pictures fell from their hooks.
A glint hit his eyes as the intruder flashed his knife at Cyrus. Who charged the man in front of him while still naked. “You’re going to have to do much better than a knife if you want to stop me!” Cyrus yelled.
The man swiped his blade left and right, creating a half-circle of protection.
Cyrus watched the man’s movements. Like everything else, especially in technology, there was always a pattern. This man was no different.
Cyrus compressed the polar bear’s senses and his human senses together. He danced like a boxer. He looked and waited.
Cyrus watched the way this man’s eyes darted back and forth. His rage mixed with fear.
A smile perked over Cyrus’s lips. That fear was going to get the man killed.
He lunged. Cyrus moved to the left and knocked the knife out of his hand. The blade flew under the dresser.
The man stepped back. His roar was not as ferocious as Cyrus’s.
It blew back Cyrus’s hair, and the sound wave ripped around him. A snapping noise cracked through the air. The intruder was shifting.
He didn’t care. This guy had to be on drugs if he was attacking people in a hotel room while they were naked. He was shifting. The room was big, but not that big. But if this man thought anything would stop Cyrus from defending his mate, he was wrong.
His polar bear would never back down from a threat. Especially if his fated mate was in danger.
Her life was more important than anything.
Cyrus threw his energy into calling the bear out of him. He jerked his right arm into the air. And then the left. He stomped his left foot. And then his right.
Large, long breaths came out of his nose.
His jaw clenched.
And then, Cyrus released his magic.
