Gray Back Alpha Bear(23)

Okay, so according to Easton’s riddles, Creed had an issue with water? She turned and made her way toward Matt and Willa’s trailer, tucking the knife back into its sheath, and then into the pocket of her sweats. She knocked softly and hoped Willa and Matt weren’t already asleep.

Willa answered almost immediately.

“Can you take me to Bear Trap Falls?”

Willa’s face fell. “Creed?”

Gia nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling a flashlight from a chest near the door.

“I thought you could see in the dark,” Gia said.

“Oh, this isn’t for me. This is for you, human.” She smirked and handed her the heavy metal flashlight.

Gia clicked it on and followed Willa toward the woods. She dragged the light across the ground in front of her, over ferns and moss, dry October grass and twigs. Stepping around a tree stump, she said, “Easton gave me a knife like yours.”

Willa smiled in the dim light beside her and held out her hand. “Let me see it.”

After Gia dug it out of her pocket, she set it gingerly on Willa’s outstretched palm.

“Shine the light here,” Willa murmured.

Gia shone the beam of light on the sliver of blade Willa had exposed.

C + G was etched into the hilt in crisp, cursive letters, so small she might have missed it if Willa hadn’t pointed it out. “C plus G?”

“Creed and Gia,” Willow murmured. “Easton must like you for Creed. Mine says M + W, but I didn’t find it for a month. Easton never pointed it out.”

Gia’s mouth hung open. “But he’s wrong. We’re not like you and Matt. Creed never bonded to me. I’m not his mate, just someone he slept with.”

“Mmm,” Willa said noncommittally. “Well, Easton gave you the knife because he sees it differently. Easton sees everything differently.”

She handed Gia the knife back and began walking again, strides long and purposeful.

“Easton still says I’m going to die.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not. I asked Matt about that, and he buttoned his lips and refused to talk about Easton. In fact, Jason and Clinton did the same thing. I guess they don’t talk about each other’s issues. Admirable, but damned frustrating. Hey, you should brag to Clinton that you got one of Easton’s knives. He’ll poop himself with jealousy.”

Willa’s bright red, spiky ponytail bobbed in front of Gia with every step her friend took. And after a while, the sounds of crickets and cicadas gave way to babbling water.

“Right through there,” Willa pointed to a trail that snaked through the trees. “He won’t hurt you.”

Wouldn’t hurt her? “Okay, thanks.” Gia waved to Willa and made her way carefully through the night woods. It was chilly out, but the hike had warmed her. Her shivering wasn’t from cold, but from nervousness. Something big was happening with the man she was falling in love with. Something that obviously caused him great pain.

Gia crested a ridge and stopped short. The river was choppy this close to the falls, and the full moon’s reflection seemed to twitch this way and that across the breaking waves. And along the sandy beach, a grizzly, as black as night—her grizzly—paced along the water’s edge. He looked trapped like a caged bear she’d seen once at a zoo. As if he was contemplating escape after years of confinement. Only Creed’s escape was dry land, and his long black claws were tearing up the sand but never touching the water.

“Creed?”

He shot her a flippant glance, then turned and paced away. She watched him for what seemed like eternity. Her heart grew heavier and heavier until she couldn’t stand being so far away from him. Not when he was like this. Not when he was hurting.

She stepped carefully onto the sand and kicked off her snow boots. The ground was cold against the pads of her feet as she moved toward Creed. He was intimidatingly big, but when she was close enough, he stopped his frantic pacing and lowered his nose, pressed his giant forehead softly against her chest.

Creed was so strong, so in charge around his crew, but here, he was letting her see a side of him she’d never seen before. Her fingers itched to touch him, but he was so big and powerful. Be brave for him.

Closing her eyes, Gia ran her fingers gingerly through his coarse fur up the sides of his face. “Are you afraid of water? Is that why you wouldn’t swim with me when I came here before?”

He grunted and rubbed his face under her arm, across her ribs.

“It’s okay. I’m afraid of wasps. I mean, deathly afraid. I can’t even run when I see them. I just stand there frozen. I can’t breathe or move a single muscle. I was stung when I was playing on a swing set at the park with my nanny, and now, fifteen years later, I still can’t stand them. Everyone is afraid of something, Creed.”