Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

“I’m not what you think I am, either!”

“You’re not?” I whisper as he kisses my forehead gently.

“No,” he says, taking a step back. “I only agreed to go into PETA because I knew I could keep tabs on what they were doing from the inside.

You see, I know what you are. I’ve known for a long time. Because…

because I’ve been keeping a secret too.”

“What?” I ask, chills racing down my spine. “What is it?”

“I’m a Were too,” he says, setting his gun down onto the ground. “Bear, there aren’t just Were-Bears in the world. Werewolves are bullshit, but there are others. I….”

“Tell me!”

He closes his eyes and raises his face toward the sky. “I… am a Were-Otter.” Then, as if my night couldn’t get any stranger, Otter’s skin suddenly begins to shift and tremble, fine brown hairs sprouting from his arms as he shrinks. Muscles and bone snap and creak as they shorten, and within seconds, Otter the man is gone, and from a pile of clothes crawls out a fat brown otter. He waddles over to me and sits up on his haunches, his nose twitching as I fall to my knees.

“Otter?” I whisper. “You’re… an otter?”

Yes, I hear him say in my head, his voice a caress. I’ve always been a Were-Otter.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Don’t you know how alone I was? Even with you there, I felt so alone because I couldn’t tell you my greatest secret!”

Otter looks a

t me sadly, his whiskers drooping. I just wanted to keep you safe. If they had found out about you, you would have been taken from me.

And I’m not just talking about PETA.

“Who?” I ask, not wanting to know the answer. A loud crack of thunder rolls out of the sky.

His nose twitches in my direction, and for a moment, I wonder if he is trying to smell me. I think that’s very weird. The Clan of Otters, he says.

There was a prophecy foretold generations ago that there would be a union between a Were-Bear and a Were-Otter, and it would unite the two groups.

But Otters are fiercely territorial and have since been trying to negate the prophecy so we don’t have to share our underwater dens. Bear… there’s something you should know: you are my mate too. And the prophecy… is about us.

“No,” I whisper. “It can’t be.”

Otter falls back to his feet and waddles back to his clothes. It is true, he thinks back at me. And I have the proof right here. Bear, what I am about to show you has never been seen outside of the Clan of Otters. I risked my life to get this, in case a moment like this arose, where I needed to make you believe. But first, shifting always drains me, and I need to eat to regain my strength. Otter pulls a clam out of his coat pocket and rolls over onto his back, placing the shellfish on his stomach.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growl.

I am an otter. We eat clams off our bellies. It’s how it’s always been.

“We don’t have time for this!”

All done. Here… take a look at this and—

But that’s all he’s able to get out. The rooftop door suddenly opens, and men in full Kevlar race out onto the building, automatic rifles pointed at each of us. Otter shifts back into his human form, standing naked between me and the gunmen. “Whatever happens,” he says quietly to me, “I need you to trust me. Can you do that, Bear?”

Can I? This man is everything to me, but everything I knew about him was a lie. But even I, the Crown Royal Prince of the Were-Bears, cannot deny my mate. “I trust you,” I whisper. I feel him shiver against me, my words causing gooseflesh to ripple across his skin.

Then the leader of PETA walks out onto the rooftop.

I should have known. I’d heard stories about how sadistic the guy in charge was, and I should have put two and two together. I haven’t seen him since a year or so ago, when he discovered my identity and we last battled, but he hasn’t changed at all, not really. That grin is still the same.

“Finally,” Tyson McKenna says, twirling his handlebar mustache. “I have you both right where I want you.” He cackles maniacally.