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“Daddy,” she said, pausing for a moment with pursed lips and a startling intelligence behind her eyes as she searched for her words. “Daddy bumped his head. He told Genica to take Leah home.”
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” Espie told her sympathetically. “And where is Daddy now? Is he here?”
“Home,” Violet told her. “He needs Pee.”
Espie’s heart lurched. Had Luther sent Genica home and then passed out? Because there was no way in hell the over-protective father would have sent his tiny daughter to get her himself. Clearly this child, who had only been to her cabin the one time, had braved the forest to find the woman she knew lived there. Somehow she just knew that it was Espie her father would want.
“Okay, let’s go see your daddy,” she insisted. “Can you take me there as your bear?”
Otherwise she’d need to find clothes for the girl, because the night had grown chilly. The other concern was that a cub might find it difficult to hold onto one form or the other, and Violet was likely still trying to get the hang of things. She wouldn’t want to put her in clothes only to have her ruin them when she shifted, and then be out of luck when she turned human again. Espie figured if both of them were bears, Violet might be more inclined to stay in that form.
Violet stood, bowed, and then put on quite a show, like shifting was a major performance and she was a professional actress. It took about two minutes for her to change, with Espie coaching her along in the softest, most patient tone she could muster. All while worrying that Luther must be seriously hurt if his daughter had come there.
Espie carried the little cub to the edge of the forest, and then shifted into her bear form. Before they left, the grizzly insisted on grooming the little one, and Espie allowed her to do so. It just happened instinctually, with Violet seeming to have no problem with it, either.
When they were through, the cub took off into the woods, clearly retracing her steps. She stopped to sniff the bases of trees, the sides of rocks, the depths of the underbrush. Here and there she got distracted by bugs or lizards, and Espie had to forcefully steer her back on track with her teeth on the nape of Violet’s neck. The baby fat there would keep her from feeling any pain, so it was a great way to keep the little cub on task.
Espie hadn’t been to Luther’s home yet, but soon enough, she picked up her fated mates scent. Then it was just a matter of following her nose, which she did with Violet clinging to her back.
When they arrived at a lone mobile home near the edge of the mountain, Espie was shocked to find that it was a newer model, and well taken care of. Luther’s natural scent, a smell she would know anywhere for the rest of her life, intermingled with the stench of blood, and Espie hastily shifted back before reaching the door, carrying Violet in bear form up the steps and into the house.
“Violet!”
Espie nearly dropped the cub at the sight of her mate. He lay sprawled on a three-seater couch, blood everywhere, barely able to stand as she rushed to his side.
“I’ve been losing my mind,” he whispered, voice hoarse and eyes wet as the cub scrambled into his arms. “She shifted and I-I’d forgotten to lock the door because I was cleaning my wounds. Next thing I knew, she was gone, but I couldn’t—”
“Shhh, it’s all right. She came to find me,” Espie murmured, sweeping his hair away from his sweaty forehead and carefully assessing the extent of his injuries. They looked bad. Bloody, and definitely worse than when he’d been in bear form, but she was sure the healing process had already started.
Violet cuddled up to her dad in a second, and it quickly became obvious that Luther wanted to both hold her tight and get her off his battered body. With a maternal instinct previously unknown to Espie rearing its head inside her, she stood up, still naked, and lifted Violet off Luther.
“Sweetheart, why don’t we all watch some TV?” she suggested, and then plopped the cub down on the armchair. The home was narrow, with the bulk of the home taken up by the kitchen and living room. There was a door down at one end—a bedroom, she assumed—and at the other was a bathroom, the door there slightly ajar with a bloody smear across it. Once she bandaged Luther, she’d see to cleaning that before Violet realized what it was.
“You probably shouldn’t have sent Genica and Leah off,” said Espie as she located a velvety soft blanket that was hanging over an armchair and wrapped it around Violet’s shoulders, encouraging her to return to her human form while she found her a set of clothes.
When she returned, Luther had managed to find a show, but he’d started to tremble with the effort. After forcefully positioning the stubborn man back on the couch, Espie made sure Violet was kept busy with her favorite cartoon and snack so she could turn her attention to her fate mate, giving him a stern look as she tried to figure out what to mend first.
“I’ll be fine,” he said hoarsely. “I had to run, Espie. I just couldn’t risk my life over a fight I didn’t want to have in the first place, you know?”
“I wouldn’t have let Miguel hurt you,” she insisted, although they both knew that Miguel was her alpha. If he really wanted his way, he could have commanded her to step aside. Instinctively, she would have to obey. Any member of the clan would. It was just how shifters were programmed. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, we can talk about that later. Right now, let’s just get you cleaned up.”
