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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY FIVE

We barely have time to process everything Clara has told us before she’s packing us a picnic dinner and ushering us out the door. We pile into her battered, ancient Jeep, which is almost definitely running more on shifter magic than gasoline at this point, and she heads out toward the mountains.

“So, uh,” Orsina asks, after a bit of silence, “does that mean this is, like…you?” She rolls up her sleeve to show the tattoo mark of the wolf that appeared on her arm after the spirits from the carving gave their blessing.

“It is perhaps an image of me,” Clara says in her cryptic way as she careens up the switchbacking roads. “Or, perhaps it is another manifestation of my spirit. There have been many over the years.”

“What about your beloved?” Orsina asks. “The bear shifter you fell in love with. Where is he?”

“That is a lovely question,” Clara says softly. “At times, we have found each other. At other times, our spirits have been far from one another. Since the curse took a deep
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