Page 19 of Once Upon A Bear

Gideon nearly dropped the mug, catching it at the last second before it could shatter, and whirled around to face Guinevere.

She glanced up at him, but her eyes changed when she noticed his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m about to transform,” Gideon said, his voice hoarse.

He was already losing his voice. The transformation happened faster and faster every time. He used to have lots of warning, but now it was barely a few moments before he changed.

“Don’t knock over my potions,” she said, ushering him into the middle of the room.

“I should go,” he said, his voice nearly gone, attempting to make his way toward the door. He wouldn’t fit in her home in his bear form, would he?

“You don’t have to,” she said quietly, and he froze, staring at her.

She didn’t mind watching him transform into a beast.

He’d always assumed that if anyone were to see it, they would hate it. Who would want to see someone they know change into a bear?

But she was watching—not just with curiosity, but with sympathy.

So he stayed.

The itching intensified, and then the pain started ravaging him from head to toe as he found himself being pulled down into a crouch, his pelt bursting through his skin and his limbs and bones transforming.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face as he collapsed onto the floor, knocking a chair and something else out of his way as he fell.

Transforming made him weak, and he hated being weak, especially in front of her.

And he definitely didn’t fit in her home in this form.

A whine escaped his throat without his permission. It hurt.

“You’re safe,” she said suddenly, sitting down next to him and putting her cool hand on his elongated nose. “It’s over. I’m here.”

Her scent filled the air, and he took a deep breath, both because her scent was comforting and because he needed to or he was going to find out if bears could cry.

How had she seen through him after only seeing it one time? He dreaded the transformation, dreaded the way it hurt and the way it made him feel like he could never be normal again.

But she was here, with a soft touch and a gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone, and that made all the difference.

“How do you feel?” she asked quietly after a few minutes, gently stroking the fur around his neck.

“The transformation hurts,” he said, his voice rough even to his own ears, not that it sounded human to anyone but her. “And that’s the first time I’ve ever had it happen in front of someone.”

She was quiet for a moment, the weight of that statement seeming to hit her harder than he’d thought it would.

“It looked painful,” she said quietly after a moment, ignoring the second part of his statement. “Is there any pattern to it?”

“The transformation?” he said wearily. “Not that I’ve found. It happens at random moments, and always when I least want it to.”

Guinevere nodded, settling down and leaning against his side.

“I see,” she said. “Well, I’ll work on the potion, but I don’t think it will be ready until tomorrow. Besides, I don’t know that giving it to you in your bear form is a smart idea. We want the human form to be the one that sticks, not the bear.”

Gideon had never agreed with a sentiment more wholeheartedly.

“That’s true,” he said. “I’ll go, then.” If he could fit through her door.

“You don’t have to,” Guinevere said. “Only if you want to. It just has to sit and steep for a while.”