Freedom For His Omega

1 JESSE I shivered, though the Tennessee summer night was warm. The woods were dark, and I knew I wasn't the only predator out here. The moment I'd gotten out of sight of the center, I'd shifted, and I hadn't shifted back to human form since. How long ago had that been? A couple weeks? A month? I was worried my logical, human side was drifting away, but I felt too unprotected in that form to consider switching back for any length of time. My agile body with its fluid strength and long claws, perfect for climbing trees, was built to survive in this wilderness. Without tools and clothing, my human body was little more than a moving meat market. A deep whuff drew my attention to it again. I'd been hearing the bear for a while, and I'd scurried up the nearest sturdy tree to listen and wait for him to wander off. Instead of skirting around me, though, he had been meandering toward me. I tried to gauge how long that had been. I'd heard him just as dusk disappeared, and it was full dark now. Had it been a half hour? Or longer? I crouched closer to the branch, too wired to fall asleep, too alert to move. I could smell the bear now, the heavy musk of a full bear. A shifter's scent was generally lighter from switching back and forth between bodies. There were layers of scents unfamiliar to me, and it wasn't until the creature finally shuffled into view that I realized why. I was used to the lighter scent of the smaller black bears, but this creature was enormous. He had to be at least six feet long, or tall. However you measured him. I wasn't completely sure he couldn't stand up and reach my branch. As I was debating on whether to leap higher or to stay still, hoping he wouldn't notice me, he looked directly into my eyes. They were silver, and his face was marred by a long, ragged scar from his right temple to his left cheek. There you are. His words were like gravel in my mind, scraping over my consciousness. The only shifters I remembered speaking mind-to-mind with were my parents and a few cubs when I was small. It was only possible between two shifters who met some kind of compatibility. I don't know whether it was some kind of cosmic vibrations like one old hippie hawk my parents used to hang out with said, or if it was something more quantifiable. Even with the compatibility, it wasn't polite to intrude in others' minds. You learned very soon as a cub that it was not okay to mindspeak to those outside your family. So outside of thinking this giant bear was full nature, the last thing I expected was mindspeak. And so I did what any startled cat would do. I jumped. Contrary to popular belief, cats do not always land on their feet. When I jumped, not only did I fail to jump to anything, I failed to land properly. I did manage to get my feet under me, but I landed wrong, and something snapped in my back right leg. I yowled in pain and the bear lumbered toward me. I tried to scramble away, pulling my upper body with my front legs, but the pain was making me lose my focus. All I wanted was to wrap my human hands around the pain in my leg, while at the same time running away as fast as I could. I was losing control of my shift, my front legs morphing into arms, the air feeling cool on my back as my fur receded. I focused on being a mountain lion. What it felt like to run, to leap, to eat as a mountain lion. But the pain was creeping up on me and my vision was fading as the bear came closer. My hearing went fuzzy and my vision went entirely black as the bear leaned down to sniff my foot, a giant snort of air tickling my fur before everything went black.