The Bear’s Nanny by Erin Havoc

02

KIERAN

A MAJOR HEADACHE pulses against the back of my skull, making me grind my teeth together. I close my eyes and take deep breaths in, lungfuls of it. But no meditation technique will calm me down.

Not with what has happened.

My bear paces inside me, from one side to the other and back. Every stomp is heavier than the previous. He’s not happy, not at all. As a bear shifter, I learned from an early age how to deal with an animal living inside me. He only comes out when I let him, and that part of my control is essential. Paramount if I want to live in society. Even if society is the tiny Shadow Falls, where paranormals like me are shielded from the rest of the world.

I have learned to differentiate my feelings from my bear’s. It’s not that hard. My bear is usually ordering me to shift and drop all other responsibilities. Every problem resolution comes down to shifting when you ask him. Lost my job? Shift and run in the woods. Upset I’m past fifty, and there are no signs of my mate? Shift and run after her. Problem with some fuckers trying to steal our territory? Shift and fight them.

Unfortunately, I can’t surrender to the urge of shifting that often. Some troubles I need the ability to speak to solve, and opposable thumbs. Without them, for example, I couldn’t hold the baby in my arms. Couldn’t lull him, even if it’s not making a damn difference.

For a one-year-old kid, he’s got quite the throat. The babe wails in my arms as I try to hush him. I’m not good at this. I don’t even know any lullabies.

“Master of puppets, I’m pulling your strings,” I chant, walking around my living quarters as I wave a pacifier at him. “Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams…” I don’t stand a chance. He screams at me even louder. Clearly not a fan of Metallica. Owen cries as if I was the one responsible for his mother’s death. As if I was the one who took her from him too early.

I haven’t even gotten the time to mourn my sister. I’m the only family this kid has, and there’s no time for me to suffer the pain of losing her. She wouldn’t want me sulking when I have to take care of her child.

A knock comes on my door, and I barely hear it. Pretty sure the sound wouldn’t reach me through the baby’s cries if I wasn’t half-bear. “Come in!” I call over the screams of my nephew. He scrunches his face, tears sopping his clothes as he cries and cries.

The door creaks open, and Nick peers from the opening. He’s got dark circles around his eyes and heavy lids, and I know the entire clan has been having trouble sleeping because of our recent addition. “Hey, man. Morning.”

“Morning, Nick,” I greet back, turning around to peek out of the window. I haven’t even noticed the sun coming up. The soft light filters through the leaves of the massive oak next to my window, soaking the room in a golden hue.

Nick’s gaze drops to the kid in my arms. “Hasn’t slept, huh?”

“No.” Again, I meet his eyes. “Sorry, man. Honestly.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “It’s not your fault you suck with children.”

I cock a brow. “You say it like you’re some kind of baby whisperer.”

He chuckles, opening the door wider and propping his hands to his hips. “As if. If I were, I would’ve come here and put him to sleep. Never seen a kid cry this hard.”

A silhouette approaches from behind him in the hallway, and Nick steps inside to give the newcomer some space. Theo peeks from the outside, heavy lids telling me he also hasn’t slept.

Guilt tugs at me, but there’s nothing to be done. Things changed quickly, and I’m at a loss as to what I should do. Even with fifty-four years of baggage, nothing prepared me to have to raise my nephew because my sister died trying to escape her clan. What kind of clan does that?

Rage boils in my blood. It’s always there, beneath the worry, hidden under all the questions. I swallow it down and force it away. Rage won’t help me now.

“Hey,” Theo greets. “Wyatt needs us. We have to develop a strategy on the fuckers trying to invade.”

I curl my upper lip. It’s ludicrous how we have to scream at each other because of the kid. The place is usually so silent the sharp cries are probably keeping the entire forest up at night. “I would love that,” I say, not hiding my mockery. “The second we have some silence.”

Theo approaches, offering his hands. I arch an eyebrow, giving him the kid. He hasn’t tried to calm him until now. But with this confidence? He might know what he’s doing. He takes the baby from my arms, folds his around the small form, and bounces him once. My nephew manages to cry even louder.

Theo hands me back the baby. “Nope. Can’t do that.”

I laugh. I laugh so hard my shoulders shake, and my nephew stops for a second, looking at me with wide eyes. The cry comes back a second later, and now he looks scared. I brace his head against my chest, breathing hard to catch my breath. “Sorry, sorry. Theo is a jerk; we all know that.”

Theo shakes his head. “I tried!”

“For one second.”

“I did my best.”

“Your best sucks,” Nick says, also laughing. He points at the kid. “You know what he needs? Supernanny.”

“Supernanny.” I roll my eyes. And here I thought he was going to help me.

“No, really.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “Find a nanny, man. There has to be someone in town that knows how to deal with children.”

I look down at the baby, bawling his eyes out. The first thing I imagined was that they hurt him. The cops contacted me almost a week ago to let me know my sister had passed away. Between bureaucracy and investigating the accident scene, the kid hasn’t stopped crying since we met, so I feared he had been wounded. Two physicians looked at him and said everything’s all right. Even so, we haven’t shut our eyes ever since it all happened.

But Nick is right. Maybe a nanny can do something about it. Certainly, a bear clan comprised of single men isn’t the best place to seek help. And I need to get back to work. The others have been doing rounds in my place, but I’m a ranger trained to take care of these woods.

“It’s his bear, I’m telling you,” says Theo. “He’s afraid because he’s feeling threatened.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s actually an excellent theory.”

“Better than most you come up with,” says Nick, laughter on his lips. His eyes narrow as if my nephew’s bellows physically hurt him.

“I mean, he was born in another clan. He gets here, and there’s this bunch of strange bears. He has a reason to dislike us.”

I nod, striding to my wallet and phone on a small table to the side. Though we all live as a happy family in the same immense house, each of us has living quarters. A tiny living room connects two rooms — one for the couple, the other for the cubs. My parents had the room I currently live in, and the other one is empty until my nephew is old enough. “So... I have to get him out of here.”

The two watch me enter my bedroom and put the baby down on the mattress for a moment as I slip into my boots. They shift in place as I pick the baby back up and leave the room.

“You’re running off?” Theo asks.

I look at him over my shoulder. “For the morning at least. I have to drop by the grocery store to get him some food, and I’ll test your theory. Find some shifter-free place to see if he falls asleep. Maybe locate a human to lull him.”

Nick snaps his fingers. “That would be good. But a human around these parts? Only if it’s a witch, and their presence is not exactly calming.”

I shrug as I rush out of the house. I parked my truck next to the others, and I pull the door open. There’s no need to keep them locked when I’m in our territory. No one would mess with us. Well, no one but the bears that sniffed around our borders yesterday. Certainly, wanting to steal our land. “We’ll see.”

It’s a fifteen-minute ride down the mountain to the small downtown of Shadow Falls. The place is still asleep, the rays of the rising sun glinting off roofs and from the top of trees. Pretty sure my nephew will wake everyone up on our way. He has to catch his breath here and there, but as soon as his small lungs are full again, he’s back to his favorite track.

The market opens early, and it’s barely past seven when I park outside. No other cars are here yet, and the city is small enough that most of the customers come here on foot. Shifters usually take any chance they get to stretch their legs. But I live too far from the city to carry a baby and grocery bags back.

A soft pop song plays on the store stereos as I cross the sliding doors. There’s only one cashier, her head down as she counts money. She looks up at me as I pick a cart and put my nephew in the child seat. He stops for a moment, looking around himself and gripping the cart’s cold metal bars. But, from the bobbing of his lower lip, he’s not done yet.

“Hey, Kieran,” the cashier greets with a doubtful smile. “I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“I don’t,” I reply as I distance myself. “My nephew.”

Her mouth forms an O-shape as I leave her behind. Sarah is nice enough, though we only met in passing. But she smells like a fox, and her presence won’t help much. Not if my nephew’s problem is being close to shifters.

To my surprise, he quiets down a bit. He still whimpers, tears running down his face as he looks up and down the shelves, his gaze always returning to me. A crease appears between his brows when he does that, and he cries a bit more before I distract him with a bag of cookies or something that makes a noise when his fingers close around it.

He has some tolerance for me, that’s clear. Maybe because my bear reminds him of his mother’s bear. But it’s not all flowers, and he’s still doubtful.

If I stay away from the clan, they’ll be able to sleep an hour before they have to work. I’ve taken days off for obvious reasons, and it’s clear I need a nanny. I need to get back to my duties. Formula is not cheap. If I could find a human nanny, that would be amazing.

My bear jerks inside me. I don’t know why, but his pacing has changed. He’s become alert. The animal inside me unsettles my nephew because he screams again. I pick him up and try to distract him, but it’s useless. My freaking bear had to not help me.

Here... She’s here...

I frown. What is he talking about? Who is here?

Another cart comes around the bend, and I look up. A woman in jeans, a hoodie, and bags under her eyes looks at the produce while her mind wanders. For a moment, it’s like she can’t even hear us.

Her. It’s her. Mate. Mate. Mate.

The word shivers through me, and the world mutes. Even my nephew. I can’t hear or see anything other than her. Thoughts battle inside me. I’ve waited a long time for this moment, for the moment my bear would recognize my mate. What should I say? What should I do?

She looks up and meets my eyes. She’s gorgeous. Is she really my mate? Am I this lucky? I take a deep breath and reach my presence out to her. To her animal. It’s probably crying out at her too, telling her I’m the one she’s been looking for. But I find no shifter presence. There’s nothing of the magical aura around her. My heart skips a beat.

“Is he all right?” She asks, and I’m back to the moment. My nephew still sobs in my arms.

My brain has forgotten how to use words. “I... He... He is...”

She offers her hands. “May I? I’ve always heard I’m good with kids.”

She takes him from my arms without waiting for an answer, and I watch the way her hair shines under the artificial lights. The tips of her blond strands touch her jaw, an uneven length giving her some charm. There’s the smell of green apples to her, something sweet and woody, but... There’s nothing of the scent of shifters.

She’s human. My mate is human.

Mate.

No. She can’t be my mate. There’s something wrong; humans are not mating material. They can’t even learn about our existence. We’ve lived in this haven because they’re ignorant about it. A human wouldn’t take the mating mark. They are too fragile; they could break.

Mate.

Silence washes over me with frightening speed. I widen my eyes, noticing my nephew has stopped crying. She lulls him in her arms, a small smile on her face as she hums a song. The kid bobs his head twice and falls asleep.

He falls asleep.

I have to pick my jaw up from the ground. “What the f —”

“Shh,” she smiles at me, shooting me a glance.

I press my lips together. Nick was right; a human was what I needed. But did it have to be my mate? How am I going to spend time around her and smell her around the house, knowing I can’t possibly have a human for a mate?

This is so confusing. My brain hurts.

“What’s his name?” She asks, her voice soft.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the fog. “Owen.”

Her gaze snaps up to me. “Beautiful name. You and your wife have good taste,” she goes on, and I don’t miss the way she searches my hands. For a ring?

God, woman. Don’t tease me.

I shake my head again, but I can’t make words come out of my mouth. I should tell her there’s no wife in the picture, though I’m looking. Always looking for my mate. But the dilemma, the fight inside me, is real. It’s overwhelming. My brain hardly works. I chew on my tongue until I taste blood, and it’s all I can do to stop from blurting out she’s supposed to be mine, and I’m supposed to be hers. All my self-control goes to keeping my hands from her voluptuous body.

We stand like that for a moment, a foot away. I should drop to my knees and beg her to be my nanny, but my bear won’t shut up about her being my mate. Her smell intoxicates me. The very view of her juicy, thick curves makes my throat parched. I need to leave. I need air.

“Thank you,” I tell her, reaching out to take my nephew from her in the gentlest manner I can. With some luck, he won’t wake until I reach a clearing in the woods free of shifter presence. There he’ll be able to sleep, and I’ll be able to wrap my head around this mess.

She looks up with a smile. “No problem.”

“I’ve never seen you around,” I blurt out. No, I shouldn’t be doing small talk. I should run from here.

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Just passing through.”

“Oh.” Good. Good. No, this is awful. My mate. No, fuck. This is so confusing. She can’t be my mate. “Thanks again.”

“No problem,” she repeats. She gives me one last once-over before she goes for her cart again. There’s a glint to her pupils that makes my stomach flip. It’s desire. I can read it as if she’s an open book.

Mate...

No, my mate can’t be human. That would be too painful. And I can’t think about that now.

Mixing rush with stealth, I pay for the stuff I managed to grab and leave the store behind, Owen breathing deeply in my arm. He’s still sleeping when I find a place in the woods we can sit down, his face pressed against my chest. And I need all my self-control, but I push my bear back, so he won’t wake my nephew.

No matter what he thinks, he’s wrong. That human can’t be my mate.