The Right to a Bear's Arms (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Wolf Rock Shifters) (4 page)

She stuck a curious paw inside, and fo
und that the bottom of the small natural compartment was only a few inches beneath the opening.

“Perfect,” she thought
and with her teeth, she pulled the envelope which contained the money out of her canvas bag. She’d wrapped the bills in a plastic bag, and tied it tightly to help avoid allowing moisture to get at the paper. She gingerly placed it into the hole, which seemed designed purely for this purpose.

Carefully
she made her way back down towards the ground, still carrying her satchel which contained her dress. All the while, she looked around to make sure no one had seen her or knew the location of her new hiding place. In the end she was confident that she remained alone and she wandered towards the fair, curious to enter a world of creatures like herself.

In the distance someone was bellowing a traditional cry of “Step right up!
” This was followed with the less traditional, “Test your strength against the fierce grizzly! But you must do it in human form! No cheating!”

As Zoe advanced she saw lights flickering in the distance, and realized that the ground was dotted with small plain paper bags, each containing a tea light, which gave them a
beautiful glow. A trail of the handmade lanterns led her eye towards multi-coloured tents in the distance, which she could see through the trees.

Each had a
sign out front, announcing the spectacle concealed within. Titles like “Saffron, the Snake Charmer,” who was no doubt charming a snake who spent most of the day lounging around in human form, “Drake, the Disco-Dancing Bear,” and “Madame Kyla, the Fortune Teller.”

It
was the last of these that caught Zoe’s eye and she stalked forwards on her dark paws, intending to have a look. It seemed to her that the art of fortune-telling had little to do with shifters, and she was curious to know why there would be a psychic at such a fair.

A joyful noise filled the air as c
hildren in masks dashed in and out of tents, laughing and playing with one another. Zoe remembered what it had been like to be that age, before her first time shifting. To these children the world must seem filled with excitement and potential for the future. All around them were clues as to what life might eventually be like, and each of them who knew him or herself to be a shifter would be eagerly anticipating that first thrilling change, thinking it would enhance their lives. Little would they know how much it could complicate matters, thought Zoe.

A
little girl ran in front of the panther and stopped, staring the black cat in the face. The girl wore a mask of a cat; a lion or a bobcat. Zoe looked at her long, delicate blond hair and her large eyes, not at all concealed by the paper mask, and saw a face of pure innocence.

“Are you a girl?” asked the child.

The panther nodded twice.

The little girl put out a hand and
tentatively touched Zoe’s face, and for a moment the shifter felt a rush of joy. She wanted suddenly to protect this child from anything that would come in her future life that would be painful, be it heartbreak or loss, or an unkind person. A loss of trust. All of the trials that people had to confront in their lives.

“You look sad,” said the little girl. “Don’t be.” She leaned forward and gave Zoe a kiss on the muzzle, then ran off into a tent.

Zoe, softened by the child’s gesture, made her way into Madame Kyla’s tent, which was covered in wide red and white vertical stripes. Inside was a small table draped in an elaborate silk cloth on which sat what looked like a crystal ball. A young woman sat on the other side of the table, robed in colourful silk and wearing a multitude of bangles around her wrists.

She reminded Zoe of herself; her shap
e was pleasantly round and soft and she was pretty and feminine. Something about her made the panther feel at ease.

“Come
een, come een,” said the woman. “Have a seat. Velcome to Madame Kyla’s.”

Her accent sounded like an attempt at something easte
rn European, but failed fairly miserably. Zoe dropped her satchel to the ground and extracted the dress.

“There’s
a curtain you can use to change,” said Kyla, gesturing towards the wall beside her, and Zoe slipped in behind it, if only to avoid horrifying anyone who might enter the tent not expecting a nude woman’s ass to be the first thing they saw.

After dropping her dress to the ground, she shifted and clothed herself
.

“There you are,” said Madame Kyla when she emerged. “Now sit, let’s talk.”

Zoe sat, silently observing the young woman on the opposite side of the table.

“You are new here,” said the fortune teller, rolling her
Rs slightly.

“And you are putting on a fake accent,” said Zoe.
“See? I’m a psychic too.”

Kyla sat back and laughed.

“Well, I can’t pull anything over on you,” she said, sounding decidedly more American. “I’m not good at accents anyhow. It’s all meant to be part of the illusion.”

“So is your fortune-
telling an illusion too?” asked Zoe.

Kyla stood, walked to the opening of the tent and sealed it after looking around at the crowd outside.

She sat back down and looked Zoe in the eye.

“No. It’s not. It’s more of a curse,” she said
, leaning back in her chair.

Her client became more interested and leaned forward, studying Kyla.

“Tell me about it,” she said.

“I thought you were here to be told about your own life.”

“I am. But I want to know about you. About this skill of yours.”

“That’s because you have your own skills, and you’re fearful of them. You haven’t quite figured them out, or how to use them to your advantage, though you do manipulate others with them.”

Zoe sat up, her spine straightening and stiffening. She opened her mouth to protest, but she knew that Kyla was exactly right.

“You’re running from something, hiding here in Wolf Rock,” continued Kyla. “Hoping to start a new life, but you don’t know where to begin. You don’t know who or what you are and it torments you.”

Her client sat silently before her.

“These feelings, they aren’t that uncommon, you know,” Kyla added. “Especially for shifters. I could probably say this
same basic thing to ninety percent of the people who walked in here and I’d be right.”

“Except that you’re
more
right with me.”

“I suppose I am. I can feel what you’ve been through.”

“Can you feel what will happen to me?” asked Zoe. “I want to know, I suppose, if I’ll ever be happy.”

Kyla lo
cked eyes with the other woman and attempted to see a concrete future. The visions which had started months ago as vague, dream-like sequences of jumbled images had become orderly and controlled, and she was often able to predict the future with such accuracy that it frightened her.

“I can tell what might happen, yes,” she said. “Everything in our lives…almost everything…is within our contro
l, Zoe. Yes, I can see that you’re surprised that I know your name.”

“I’m not. Not really.”

“So, Zoe, about your future: I can sit here and tell you that you will be alone for some time, but you have the power to alter that.”

“
I suppose more than a fear of being single, I want to know, will I be found by the man I ran from?”

Kyla closed her eyes
and put her palms flat on the table. Zoe could see her eyes gyrate around behind their lids as the fortune teller allowed herself to enter deep into a vision.

Kyla
saw a man entering Wolf Rock. He was angry, but unarmed. He was a shifter, but a weak one, and frightened of the town’s residents. He wondered if Zoe was under the protection of the locals. But he was determined to find her and to get back what she…

“What did you steal?” asked Kyla.

“Steal? What? Nothing.”

“Zoe, as sure as
I am that you’re sitting in front of me now, I know that you stole something from a man.”

“I took some money. Just enough to survive.”

“He wants it back.”

“Well, he can’t have it. He ruined my fucking life and m
y mind, and he’s not getting the money.”

“
Fine. I can’t say that I blame you. Whatever happens, you need friends. You need to find a way to make this place your home. The shifters here will protect you.”

Zoe crossed her arms.

“I don’t need protection,” she said.

“I think you do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have run away. You wouldn’t have looked to
that man, Colson for help, and you wouldn’t be here.”

“I…” Zoe knew that there was no point in protesting. She was no psychic but she could tell that this woman was strong-willed, as she was, and wouldn’t back down.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Wolf Rock is developing. You’ve probably heard that. My mate, Maddox—he’s like you. He’s a shape changer. He works for the local school
, as do I. I’d like to talk to him and see if there’s a place for you, a position. He’s generally in charge of hiring new instructors.”

“I don’t know anything about teaching.”

“It’s not a traditional school, Zoe. You wouldn’t be taking on a class of rowdy students. Imagine a group of young girls and boys, all fearful of what’s ahead. All of them shifters, but not knowing yet what other powers they might possess. Imagine if you’d had someone to guide you at that age.”

“You’re saying I would guide kids through their changes? But I’m a mess
myself,” Zoe said, surprising herself with her own honesty.

“You’re not a mess. Your life has never been sorted. But you’re not a mess,” said Kyla. “And you need to learn to rely on others, if only a little bit.
You try too hard to be solitary and independent and you don’t realize that it’s not in your blood. You can lean on people. There are good ones out there, you know.”

“I’ve never liked that idea. I’ve always looked after myself.”

“Yes, well, your looking after yourself has made you into a fugitive, hasn’t it? It’s not exactly ideal. You need to learn what it truly means to have a family and community. The nice thing about shifters is that we understand that notion better than people. I’ve been a member of the wolf pack here since my late teens. And I couldn’t be more grateful.”

Zoe sat for a moment, silently pondering Kyla’s words. The
she-wolf had a point, she knew. But one didn’t just change and let one’s guard down. She knew that she couldn’t suddenly become a different person.

“Zoe,” said Kyla, who seemed
now to be reading her thoughts. “Here’s my card.” She handed over a business card with only her name, a cell phone number and an email address on it. “Call, email, text anytime. I’d like to help. I have some knowledge of what it feels like to be isolated. Almost all of us here understand that. I won’t judge you, but I also won’t force you into situations that make you uncomfortable. When you’re ready, get in touch with me.”

“Thanks,” said Zoe. “I will, if I can.”

“I know you will,” said Kyla.

Zoe spent the rest of the evening wandering between tents, watching the acts as performers entertained the throngs of shifters and their young children, who’d obviously been granted special permission to stay up all night. She supposed that in a way this was like school for them; watching people such as them enjoying themselves and displaying their abilities. For the parents it would be a simple way to show their children what they had to look forward to. Zoe wished there had been such a circus around when she was a child.

A magician in one tent held up a silk cloth over a young woman, and when he pulled it away sh
e’d seemed to disappear. Zoe’s eyes caught a tiny mouse running out through a small opening in the side of the tent. The woman then appeared at the back of the tent, dressed in different clothing which she’d no doubt grabbed on the way around.

Anot
her made his assistant levitate and as she did so, she turned into a dove and flew out through a round opening in the tent’s ceiling.

Though cynica
l, Zoe found herself enchanted seeing the fair through the eyes of a child. She wished above everything that she could forget all of the miserable experiences that she’d had and embrace this world full of wonders and potential, and accept how fortunate she was to have this body with its many abilities. But for one thing she did feel fortunate: in this place, she found that she could begin to be herself. For the moment she remained unknown, anonymous, and didn’t need one of her many disguises.

Even
more than that, she felt at home in a society where other women were shaped like her. She had yet to see what she would call a “skinny” woman, though she hated that word. They were different shapes and sizes, but each female shifter had curves to her, and though she had no doubt that they were all strong to endure years of transformations, they didn’t look like they’d stepped out of fitness magazines. Their strength was that of mothers and of protectors; of women who were simply women.