Page 12 of His Bear Bombshell

“I don’t know,” the raccoon shifter answered my question, sounding almost as worried as I felt. “We were running —we’ve always played a game where he chases me to the river. Have done for as long as we’ve been able to shift— and for the first time ever, he didn’t catch me. He was…uh…he was slow.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Martin’s long fingers drumming on his bare thigh anxiously. “When he got to the water’s edge, he yelped and shifted back. He was bleeding from…well, from somewhere I’ve never seen before on anyone…and he said his stomach was killing him.” Martin’s voice clogged with tears, making my heart clench. “He’s, um, he’s convinced he’s dying. I don’t…I mean, I’m a beta. I don’t know anything about omega biology, but I don’t think he’s dying. Maybe his appendix burst, or something?”

I put my foot down harder. There was no time to lose.

Martin slammed his hands on the dash when we lurched to a sudden stop in the tiny parking lot, a spray of gravel and dust heralding my speedy arrival. Before we could get out of the vehicle, the clinic’s door opened, and Eric stepped out.

He was about my height, blond and attractive, with a body that appeared gym-toned. To look at him, you’d guess he was maybe in his early forties, so it was a bit of a mindfuck to discover he was a hundreds-of-years-old dragon. I’d learned that Eric had purchased most of the land in Shifters Sanctuary decades ago, and that it had been his idea to form the pack when Beckett had accidentally discovered he was an alpha. The first in centuries, in fact.

Eric was also a great doctor. He was calm and incredibly knowledgeable, and it was a relief to see him striding towards us with purpose, his emergency medical bag already slung over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” he asked, opening the rear passenger door and sliding into the middle of the back seats. He didn’t even blink at Martin’s disheveled, naked state.

Martin quickly repeated everything he’d told me, answering as many of Eric’s questions as he could. He said something about Tim’s body changing, but I didn’t understand what he meant. Eric seemed to have some idea, though, because he hummed thoughtfully while I tried to focus on driving us back to the edge of the forest where the pack was running.

From what I’d gleaned during my time living there, Beck gave the pack some say in what happened in the town, including things as simple as where to take their monthly pack runs. A lot of the time, the pack would simply gather on the lands near Beck’s house and go from there. But on some occasions, like this one, other shifters would offer their properties as a starting point, for variety of experiences and to show their pack spirit.

“Park here,” Martin leaned forward in his seat. He braced himself for another hasty stop. “This way will get us to Tim the fastest.” He glanced at Eric over his shoulder. “Especially because you can’t shift.”

Eric nodded. As a dragon, he was huge. He couldn’t make it through the dense hardwood trees as quickly as he could in human form. At least, not without flattening half the forest. Not that I was opposed to that idea, seeing as it was my mate who needed help.

And he was my mate. There was no use pretending otherwise or bothering to correct my inner beast. We might have only been dating for six months, and we might have been taking our physical relationship slower than most, but I was head over heels in love with Tim.

A pang of guilt struck me at that thought. I’d been feeling it for a while, but I hadn’t said the words out loud. What if the worst did happen and Tim never knew how I felt?

No. I couldn’t think that way. Eric was there. He was going to help. Everything was going to be fine.

It had to be.

I heard Tim before I could see him. He was crying out in pain, and it made my bear want to come hurtling to the surface. I wanted to hurt whatever was harming my mate, but as we broke through the brush and came to find him curled up on the grassy riverbank, sobbing and sweaty and grimy, it was obvious there was nothing external to blame.

“C-Con…” Tim sobbed when he saw me.

I crashed to my knees at his side, oblivious to whatever the others were doing.

My boyfriend had my complete focus. I reached for his outstretched hand, running my other through his damp hair. “Shh, darlin’, I’m here, and so’s Eric. He’s gonna fix you right up, okay?”

Tim grimaced, squeezing my hand with a surprising amount of force, curling over into a tight ball again. “I think my spleen ruptured or something. It…ugh…it hurts so bad. And” —He scrunched his face up — “there’s this, um, this hole. And it was bleeding and I think I peed out of it…and…and…w-what if I’m dying?”

“I don’t think that’s what’s happening,” Eric said, unpacking his supplies near Tim’s feet. “I’m just going to take a look, okay? I need you to lie back and open your legs for me, Tim. Can you do that?” Turning his attention to me, Eric suggested, “Can you shuffle around and prop him up a bit? Support him. Sitting with a leg on either side of him so you can hold him might be best.”

I did everything he said, only letting go of Tim’s hand so I didn’t twist his arm back unnaturally. As soon as I was behind him, with his back flush against my chest, I wrapped my arms around him and he gripped at my forearms, his nails digging in as more pain wracked his body.

“Alright, this might feel a bit uncomfortable,” Eric said, placing a gloved hand on the inside of Tim’s left thigh. There was a smear of blood on the pale skin there which made my stomach churn with worry. “Just take some deep breaths for me, okay, Tim?”

Tim nodded, jolting and yelping when Eric reached between his legs. “Owww!” he cried. “Stop. Please. It hurts. Please stop.”

Even though I knew Eric was just doing his job and trying to help my mate, his plaintive begging brought my bear closer to the surface.

Don’t maim the doctor, I told myself. Don’t maim the—

“Good. Good. You did really well, Tim,” Eric withdrew his hand, then looked up at us with a peculiar expression. He licked his lips, then said, “You’re not dying, and you haven’t ruptured an organ. But you are in active labor.”

Martin gasped, “Labor?!”

I’d forgotten he was even there.

Tim shook his head vehemently. “I…that’s not possible. I’m a virgin. I…I can’t be…” He twisted around, his frantic, red-rimmed eyes trying to meet mine. “I swear, I’ve never been with anyone. I—owwww.”

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” I said, despite my own inner turmoil.