Southern Shifters: Bearly Dreaming (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

But every night, I’d come through a little faster, received a little more reaction from him, though not nearly enough. Tonight, I wanted to secure our connection and actually communicate. Tonight, I’d use the power of the Tallan to dreamwalk with my mate.

The distance between us
had
to be great. My power had never been put to such a test, my abilities never worked so hard. But I could finally feel him. I was close, too close not to make it. My time was so short; there was no way I could give up. Already, my mind fractured at times, visions causing me to doubt reality. If I couldn’t reach him, couldn’t make him see me soon, The Council
would
step in, and I’d be as good as dead.

Or handed off to whichever man was willing to be saddled with me: poor, weak Nyla MacDonald, the charity case of the clan.

Something flirted with the edge of my consciousness, drawing my attention away from the issues at home. A comforting feeling, one of rightness and safety led me further through the dark. More than just a ping, this was a full tsunami of sensation. The black slowly lightened to leave a white haze around me, the white dissolving to dark gold and brown. Shadows danced across long wood beams, color exploded from under my feet in a pattern not clear enough for me to make sense of, and the smell of a late summer night tickled my nose. Wood burning nearby, a fire in a large, stone fireplace…a cabin of some sort. Warm and cozy, the natural beauty of the space appealed to me. Comforted me. Made me feel at home.

The picture in my mind filled in nicely, color and shape becoming specific objects. My vision wasn’t quite clear, but it was far better than it had been the first few times I’d tried to find my mate. I was getting better and stronger on every trip. Dreamwalking may have been a born trait of the MacDonald clan, but that didn’t mean it came easily. Especially not to me.

I checked out more of the space, trying to get a feel for the man who lived there. Looking through the eyes of his memories to clean up the things I couldn’t see myself. The room was dark, the only light the glow of the fire, the windows reflecting the golden flames. No lights outside, only the inky blackness of a new-moon night. The lack of light made me think this was a home away from people, perhaps rural or secluded in the forests somewhere. Like my own.

Bare walls, a soft, plush rug covering part of the honey-colored wood floor, the simplicity of the few decorative touches…all the details spoke of comfort over style. This was a real man’s home, a place to relax and work, to play and live. An extra wide chair and ottoman sat in one corner with a wall of bookcases behind it. A pair of glasses rested on the arm, left behind by the occupant. He liked to read, and he needed glasses to do it. That thought made me smile.

And then he was there, standing in front of me, looking down at me. Tall, hugely tall, and big like the furniture, taking up way more space than I’d expected. It was the first time I’d seen him so clearly, and I couldn’t stop staring.

His lips moved, stealing my attention. My eyes darted to them, then up to meet his gaze and back down. Again, he spoke words I couldn’t hear, brow pulling down when I didn’t respond. I tried to see, to read his lips, to get a feel for the words he spoke, but it was too dark for me to make out. Too many shadows to figure it out. I pushed with my powers again, a shiver of magic working up my spine, making the fire grow hotter. Brighter. He moved his lips again.

Who are you?

No sound. Never any sound. I tried to speak, to tell him my name at the very least, but I knew by his confused expression that he didn’t understand me. I clenched my fists, pushing harder on my gift, putting all my energy into that one word.

Nothing.

His smile dimmed as I stood silent, disappointment coloring his handsome face. And he
was
handsome. Rugged and muscular, with dark hair and eyes and a jaw so sharp it looked as if it had been chiseled out of stone. The scruffy beard he wore didn’t hide the angles, either. Instead, the deep shadows accentuated them. I wanted to touch him, to tell him why I was there, to ask for his help. To find comfort in his obvious strength. But I had no idea how.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, ones I fought not to shed. Desperate, I brought my hands up. He watched, interested. Patient. I smiled and started making the symbols I’d learned as a child, the ones my mother had taken the time to learn with me. Without thought or effort, I told him my story. Muscles flexing and contracting as I fought to communicate. He shook his head, not understanding, not knowing my language. The first tear fell as I started again. Slower. More exaggerated. Three times. Four. Every minute taking more and more of my energy. Every head shake leading to more tears.

The room lightened suddenly, the white haze coming back, details disappearing. I rushed through another pass, mouthing words, screaming them in my head.

I’m Nyla of Deals Gap. Find me. Help me.

He reached for me, mouth moving, but there was nothing to hear, the silence too loud in my ears. The white increased, washing him out, taking away my chance. And then he was gone.

I jackknifed up in my bed, gasping for air.
Damn it.
I was so close this time, closer than ever before. He was right there
in
the dream, solid and real. Well, sort of real. Mostly real. Kind of.

Damn it.

I threw off my covers and stormed across the room. There was no sense in trying to fall back asleep. My entire body hurt, every inch of me paying the price for pushing my power so far. I snorted at that thought.
Power, my ass
. The Tallan didn’t make me feel powerful. In fact, as I walked into my little kitchen, I felt weaker than ever. Drained. I had no idea if I’d even have the strength to dreamwalk to him again once the day ended, but I’d have to find a way. My life depended on it.

I steered around the crater-sized hole on the only street through what we called town. The damn thing had been appearing twice a year for as long as I could remember, causing much frustration. One of these days, we’d figure out a way to fill it for good instead of having it come back to wreak havoc on all our vehicles. For now, though, fixing that hole was about as far down on my priorities list as it could get. Hell, the list had disappeared, leaving me with nothing but a picture. An image.

The face of the woman who stole my breath.

All day, she’d been on my mind. When I woke up sweaty, hard, and desperate to get my hands on her. When I drank my morning coffee, ignoring the scenery outside to stare at the spot on my rug where she’d stood, shadowed by the fire at her side. When I took a shower, as my hand stroked my cock through my vivid thoughts of us in every position imaginable until I trembled through a release that made me roar. As I dressed, as I ate, as I drove, as I went fishing with two of the wolf shifters from town. All fucking day, her picture haunted me. Refusing to let me be.

I had to find her.

But first, I needed to talk to someone about this, which was why I was driving this road in the first place. Audrey’s Jeep sat outside the library. In reality, calling it a library was a stretch, but she’d missed the one from her hometown when she moved up here after mating with my brother, so we’d set her up in a small building next to the general store. She stocked books, read books, and recommended books all day long to the handful of people who came to see her. Though at that moment, hers was the only car parked on the street.

I parked my truck beside hers, gripping the wheel with sweaty hands. Audrey had a way of knowing things. Of getting to the root of a problem. As much as I wanted to keep my private business private, I was betting she’d know a way to help me figure out what was going on. Hell, she might even be able to help me find my mystery woman. But first, I needed to grow a set of balls and walk in there. Alone. Without my brother as a buffer to the woman I barely knew. Fuck me, dream girl had better be worth it.

My bear growled in my head, letting me know how he felt about the whole thing, telling me she was
definitely
worth it to him. The cranky old bastard.

The bell chimed as I opened the door a few seconds later, making me cringe. Nothing like announcing my presence to the world. Audrey grinned when she saw me, her wild, red hair pulled back in an even wilder bun, corkscrews hanging along the edges of her face where they’d escaped.

“Well, if it isn’t brother Kian. To what do I owe the honor of your company, sir?”

I shook my head, my lips pulling up into a smile as they always did around the impish little woman. There was just something so sweet about her enthusiasm, something that made you feel happy whether you wanted to or not. Everyone who met her loved her on sight. Especially my brother.

“I was just driving by on my way home and saw your car. Thought I’d pop in and see how you’re doing.”

She shrugged. “Same old, same old. Books, arguments with old Mr. Hackles over appropriate books, more books, and putting up with your brother’s brand of crazy.”

We both grinned at that one. My brother had a good heart, a great sense of humor, and was smart as a whip, but the man tended to get himself into trouble more often than not. Luckily for me, as soon as he and Audrey had bonded, she’d taken over getting him out of it.

I fingered the cuff of my shirt, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I’d run the gauntlet and entered the building, now I needed to find the words to explain what I needed. Sadly, the words wouldn’t come. So I fidgeted, and I stalled.

Audrey cocked her head, eyes narrowing as she looked me over. “Looks like you need a cup.”

I gave her a slight bow, relieved for something to do with my hands. “I’d be much obliged.”

She nodded and hurried off to make me a cup of coffee. She and I shared a love for written words and deep, dark-roasted brews. Well, and my brother, though that thought bordered on a territory I didn’t want to visit. She was his mate, his partner, his lover…yeah, not going there. When she brought me a cup filled almost to the brim, I kept my eyes locked on the dark depths. Searching for words that were definitely not beneath the surface.

“Whit mentioned you’ve been having a little trouble sleeping.” She sat in the chair across from me, motioning for me to take the other, looking calm and open. Obviously ready to listen.

I sighed as I sat. A little trouble sleeping was the understatement of the year.

“Not really trouble sleeping, more trouble sleeping alone.”

Her eyebrows flew up toward her hairline. “Oh, well…”

“Not like that.” I sat back when she did, mimicking her motions as she took a sip of her coffee, not wanting her to feel awkward. “There’s this woman—”

“I figured.”

“Are you going to let me tell it?” I waited until she nodded, giving her a mock glare. “You get more like Whit every day.”

“Shut your mouth.”

I huffed a laugh. “You two are perfect for each other, you childish little thing.”

She grinned, bright and wide. The girl knew exactly how perfect she was for my brother and him for her. Their love was effortless.

“Anyway,” I started again. “There’s this woman, and she keeps showing up when I’m sleeping.”

Her brow puckered. “Like, breaking in to your cabin?”

“No, like walking right into my dreams. Every night, the same thing. She appears, but when I try to talk to her, it’s like she can’t hear me or something. And then bam, gone.”

“Maybe a ghost.”

I thought about that possibility. Hell, I wouldn’t knock anything out of the running if it would explain who she was. “Doubtful. She throws shadows.”

“Huh.” Audrey stood and walked to a bookshelf at the back of the room. “When I was a little girl, my great-grandma from Scotland used to tell me family legends of strange and magical things our ancestors could do. All these really tall tales about throwing flames and manipulating lightning” —she dropped a heavy book on the counter beside me— “but my favorite were the dreamwalkers.”

“Dreamwalkers?”

“Legend has it that some women from way back in our family line had the ability to walk into other people’s dreams as they slept. They could see their thoughts and memories through the host’s eyes and interact with the person as if they were awake.”

I frowned. “She doesn’t interact with me.”

“Not yet.”

I ran a hand over my face, tired and worn out from all the crazy floating around me.

“Look, maybe that’s what this is. She’s a dreamwalker come to drive me insane. I just wish she’d interact with me…talk to me. Tell me something about herself so I knew who the hell she was and why she’s there. I can’t handle all this secretive shit.”

Audrey’s eyebrow cocked. “That’s funny coming from you, mister bear shifter living in a secret village in the middle of nowhere so humans can’t find you.”

I glared for real this time. “That’s different.”

She reclaimed her seat, coffee in hand, eyes intentionally wide. “Oh, please. Inform me how her secret stuff is so very different from your secret stuff.”

“I thought you were going to help me.”

She laughed, which didn’t help my mood. “I’m trying, but you’re not giving me much to go on here.”

“You want something to go on? Fine. Figure out what this means. That’d be a huge help.” I held up my hand and bent my fingers into a shape I remembered from the night before. Audrey watched me, pursing her lips. And then she shrugged.

“Why.”

“Exactly. Why? Why does she keep showing up, and why won’t she talk to me?”

“No, dumbass.” She used her finger to trace a shape in the air. “Y. That’s the letter Y in sign language.”

I stared at my hand, remembering the way hers had seemed to dance in the air. Fingers tracing points I couldn’t see. Hands gesturing.

“Well, shit.” I tucked my thumb under my first two fingers, making a sort of fist. “What about this one?”

“I believe that’s an N.”

“And this.” I placed my hand flat against my chest and rubbed in a circle a couple of times.

“I think that means please.”