Bearly alive

14

"Have you figured out what you are yet, Stella?" Roman appears back into the living room. I didn’t hear him walk down the stairs, didn’t register there was someone else in my proximity until he spoke. I got so engrossed in reading as much of the file on lycans as I could.

I taught myself to read since no one in the Thunderbolt pack figured it was worth enrolling me in school. As a result, I’m really good at piecing words together from context, because I may struggle to understand some of them. That’s fine when you are reading a novel or a magazine, but when I opened the file and saw it filled with facts, dates, explanations and observations, I immediately remembered the Physics manual I found a few years back. Suffice to say, I didn’t teach myself any laws of physics.

But back to Roman and the dark cloud he brought once he came back down. The way he says my name makes me think he's angry with me and I remember that he's the one biting the head off those who try to help him. He’s the one w*****g around. And yes, I know I have no right, but I’m still upset and affected by that.

To his mocking question I almost bit out 'Yes, your mate is what I am.' but stopped myself before the words left the tip of my tongue. Instead, I lifted the thick folder I had been reading and looked at my kidnapper.

"I know what I'm not."

I start by stating the obvious facts, mostly for my benefit.

"I'm definitely not a werewolf, that much is clear. But I do have a wolf spirit inside me, so that bit is confusing.” I wince remembering how just minutes ago I referred to my wolf as monster. She’s still not impressed about that.

I'm basically listing facts about myself like a kid in History class that's being asked about some war that happened ages ago and no one cares about anymore. Roman seems to grow bored because I notice him rummaging through some cupboards. I watch him with furrowed eyebrows, sure that he stopped listening to me and is now solely focused on his mission. When he finally finds what he has so eagerly looked for, I almost hear an excited ah-ha. I roll my eyes, and purse my lips as soon as Roman turns around. I can’t help but notice two bottles that look made out of heavy glass, and a light coloured liquid sloshing inside. He’s cradling them like they are the most precious things ever. Like he didn’t just dig them out from somewhere under the kitchen sink.

Roman settles at the kitchen island and makes a sign for me to carry on. I almost choke when I see him take a few gulps of the beverage, mainly because I can smell the high concentration of alcohol from here. It makes my nose sting.

"Right. So…" I stammer. "I've looked through this, and I know I've shifted earlier and look nothing like a wolf." I look down to my ripped clothes that still barely hang onto my body. " …but that doesn't mean I'm one of them."

For some reason, I can't bring myself to say the word.

Roman takes another swig, the corner of his mouth and one eyebrow rising higher and higher.

"And why do you say that?" He enquires.

"Well, for starters it says here they're extinct." I snap lifting the folder to make my point. Roman scoffs like I've just insulted him.

"Were extinct. But considering I just saw one, I think it's pretty safe to say they aren't."

I watch him take another gulp. His face creases when he realises he's finished the bottle.

I'm sorry to do this to my wolf and have to bring this up now, but I would say that having an alcohol problem doesn't fall into the Pros column.

"You think you saw one, but just because I'm not a wolf, it doesn't mean I'm a lycan. I'm just a freak of nature, that's all."

For a few seconds, Roman's temper seems to spike and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Then he seems to calm himself down and once more I see that hint of pity in his eyes.

"You're a lycan, Stella." After a long moment, He said that with finality, like his word and validation would actually make me one of the most powerful shifters. "And even if the information in there wasn't enough to figure out you are one, the fact that I've seen a lycan shift before, would."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers. "But it says here they're extinct."

"So you have mentioned." He opens the second bottle and drinks a hefty amount from it. "But can I tell you a little secret, Stella?"

He doesn't wait for my reply. Instead, he smiles in a very sinister way, his eyes darkening and his stature somehow growing bigger and more imposing.

"My brother was a lycan." He drops the bomb, his gaze never leaving mine, keeping locked in like in a trance.

In the end I blink first. I appreciate Roman pausing after that statement. I needed the time to collect my jaw from between the cushions.

Hope sparks in me, and I blame my wolf for this feeling.

Is Roman not a werebear? He said he was. I've asked him the question directly. Why lie?

But before I could pick apart his statement and build theories as to what that could mean, Roman decides the pause was long enough.

"My father found him as a young boy. He was wandering through the woods more dead than alive. He took him home when the boy said he didn’t have any family. No one did ever come looking for him either, not that my parents would have let anyone take their son away.

We didn't know what he was at the time. Who he was. And he didn't say anything until I saw him shift for the first time. I always wondered if he knew before that moment. Always suspected he did but was too cowardly to ask him point blank."

"So he wasn't your brother?" The stupid question is all my brain can produce when Roman gives me an opening.

"Not by blood, but for more than a decade we were brothers. Goddess knows I loved him like one and my parents treated us both equally. I always looked up to him, he was my hero."

I watch mesmerised by how Roman opens up, fully knowing that it's due to the amount of alcohol he just drank.

He laughs suddenly, a sad, hollow laugh that gives me chills.

"Do you know, little lycan, that you are the only shifter that can mate with any other shifter species?"

I read something about that in the file that I still hold, but I skimmed past it, not wanting to go down the rabbit hole of debating if that's the reason I can feel Roman is my mate and he can't. But it looks like he's not shying away from the subject any time soon.

"Fun fact, any progenies that a lycan has, regardless of the shifter they gave them with, comes out…. " He pauses, drawing out the last word.

I frown. He pouts in his own, manly and broody way.

"You guessed it: lycan. Those lycan genes trump everything else." Roman seems amused at himself, me not so much. The way he spat the word progenies.

“I’m not a baby making machine.” I say under my breath, but Roman must hear me. I look as he suddenly freezes. I keep watching him, not knowing what to expect. I can almost see the light bulb go off above his head, before he growls between clenched teeth.

"I know why he wants you, now. What I don't know is how did he figure out what you are. And how didn't I see it sooner?"

"Who? Who is he?" I ask, hoping to take advantage of the sharing mood that my captor is in.

"Nice try, Stella, but you know I can't tell you that."

Well, it was certainly worth a shot.

Roman dismisses me like he didn't just help make my world implode. He practically orders me to go back to my room like a warden advising of lights out.

Still upset, confused and generally feeling lost, I slowly make my way into the plush coll of my temporary prison. I manage to wash myself again, but not much from the clothes I had could be saved. I was struggling with a bedsheet that I wanted to turn into a makeshift dress when a knock came on the door. When I went to open it, all bundled up in the sheet like a burrito, Roman nearly dropped the tray he was carrying.

"Here. I don't think you've eaten. You should eat more." He pushed the tray in my hands and I have to be extra careful accepting it whilst not dropping the end of the sheet and exposing myself. Roman seems to understand my struggle and hastily adds something about bringing me something to wear too. At least I think that's what he said, because the man might be huge, but he moves so quickly that you blink and he's gone.