you're a terrible villain. You know that you're not supposed to bathe naked in ponds?"
"What, villains don't get to bathe?" Softly, Steven laughed. "Actually, I think in the fairy tales, it's the princess who bathes and is spied upon by the villain."
“Oh, so I’m the villain now?” Cleo stopped and pretended to glare at him, hands at her hips.
Suddenly, her stern expression turned to delight when she pointed at something behind him. “There, look! Come, help me brush that ivy away!”
It took only a moment to discover what the green had hidden. There, just as Cleo has promised, the raw rock lay in hiding. The walls of the ravine narrowed and formed the shape of a V here. When Steven curiously brushed his hand across the rock, beneath the dirt he found a layer of red stone, changing abruptly to gray rock. When he reached upwards to brush away more dirt and dust, he discovered another layer of a darker, brown stone.
“We’re definitely on the right path to your treasure,” Steven said, taking a step back to survey the wall.
The strange squiggles in the map now began to make sense—the V had been the shape of the ravine, and the squiggles showed how the layers of stone were revealed in the steep rock.
“Next up is… I’m not sure what this is.” Cleo unfolded the map again.
Her finger pointed to the next symbol. It looked a little like a tree—but Steven wasn’t certain what the additional decorations were.
“Is that a Christmas tree?” he asked in disbelief. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”
“It really doesn’t.” Cleo squinted at the paper. “But I think you’re right. It’s a tree. I don’t know what else it could be…”
“A tree that looks… strange in some way,” Steven muttered. “Well, at least we know what we’re looking for.”
“Shouldn’t be hard to find.” With another frown at the map, Cleo put it away again.
As they went on, the walls of the ravine came closer. Finally, they came to a spot where it got so narrow that they had to squeeze past a fallen slab of rock and the wall. But once they made it through, before them, the walls fell away and the ravine opened into another valley covered in ferns and fir trees.
“Right.” Steven gave the trees a doubtful look. “According to the map, we’ll have to head north from here on, and then eventually we’ll find your Christmas tree.”
Cleo snorted. “Don’t doubt my Grandma’s map! We’ve found all the other landmarks so far.”
Steven eyed the trees around them, but they gave no hints as to what sort of tree they were looking for. All around them, fir trees grew, rustling gently in the wind. The ground was covered in dry needles. Every now and then, a fallen tree with its branches withered and broken off barred their way.
It looked like any other forest Steven had explored in his life. He itched with the bear’s instinct, yearning to put his nose to the ground and sniff for hints to their mysterious destination—but he couldn’t shift now. Cleo still had no idea that he was a bear shifter.
And how would he explain such a thing to her? He’d never thought that one day, he’d be in the situation where he’d have to tell his mate that he could turn into a huge, shaggy bear.
And worse, even if Cleo could accept that—he’d also have to tell her that there was a good chance that Steven would turn out just like his dad. That he’d hurt her. That he’d run.
Why would we ever run from our mate? his bear asked patiently.
Steven wanted to shake his head. He remembered the shouting, the nights as a small child he’d spent hiding beneath the covers, trying not to cry when arguments turned to shouting matches and ended with the sound of the door falling shut. His dad would be gone for days or weeks—sometimes even months.
I can’t do that to her. I can’t.
Then don’t. I certainly won’t do that to her, the bear grumbled in his head.
Steven ignored him.
Cleo had taken hold of his hand again. They
"What, villains don't get to bathe?" Softly, Steven laughed. "Actually, I think in the fairy tales, it's the princess who bathes and is spied upon by the villain."
“Oh, so I’m the villain now?” Cleo stopped and pretended to glare at him, hands at her hips.
Suddenly, her stern expression turned to delight when she pointed at something behind him. “There, look! Come, help me brush that ivy away!”
It took only a moment to discover what the green had hidden. There, just as Cleo has promised, the raw rock lay in hiding. The walls of the ravine narrowed and formed the shape of a V here. When Steven curiously brushed his hand across the rock, beneath the dirt he found a layer of red stone, changing abruptly to gray rock. When he reached upwards to brush away more dirt and dust, he discovered another layer of a darker, brown stone.
“We’re definitely on the right path to your treasure,” Steven said, taking a step back to survey the wall.
The strange squiggles in the map now began to make sense—the V had been the shape of the ravine, and the squiggles showed how the layers of stone were revealed in the steep rock.
“Next up is… I’m not sure what this is.” Cleo unfolded the map again.
Her finger pointed to the next symbol. It looked a little like a tree—but Steven wasn’t certain what the additional decorations were.
“Is that a Christmas tree?” he asked in disbelief. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”
“It really doesn’t.” Cleo squinted at the paper. “But I think you’re right. It’s a tree. I don’t know what else it could be…”
“A tree that looks… strange in some way,” Steven muttered. “Well, at least we know what we’re looking for.”
“Shouldn’t be hard to find.” With another frown at the map, Cleo put it away again.
As they went on, the walls of the ravine came closer. Finally, they came to a spot where it got so narrow that they had to squeeze past a fallen slab of rock and the wall. But once they made it through, before them, the walls fell away and the ravine opened into another valley covered in ferns and fir trees.
“Right.” Steven gave the trees a doubtful look. “According to the map, we’ll have to head north from here on, and then eventually we’ll find your Christmas tree.”
Cleo snorted. “Don’t doubt my Grandma’s map! We’ve found all the other landmarks so far.”
Steven eyed the trees around them, but they gave no hints as to what sort of tree they were looking for. All around them, fir trees grew, rustling gently in the wind. The ground was covered in dry needles. Every now and then, a fallen tree with its branches withered and broken off barred their way.
It looked like any other forest Steven had explored in his life. He itched with the bear’s instinct, yearning to put his nose to the ground and sniff for hints to their mysterious destination—but he couldn’t shift now. Cleo still had no idea that he was a bear shifter.
And how would he explain such a thing to her? He’d never thought that one day, he’d be in the situation where he’d have to tell his mate that he could turn into a huge, shaggy bear.
And worse, even if Cleo could accept that—he’d also have to tell her that there was a good chance that Steven would turn out just like his dad. That he’d hurt her. That he’d run.
Why would we ever run from our mate? his bear asked patiently.
Steven wanted to shake his head. He remembered the shouting, the nights as a small child he’d spent hiding beneath the covers, trying not to cry when arguments turned to shouting matches and ended with the sound of the door falling shut. His dad would be gone for days or weeks—sometimes even months.
I can’t do that to her. I can’t.
Then don’t. I certainly won’t do that to her, the bear grumbled in his head.
Steven ignored him.
Cleo had taken hold of his hand again. They
Similar Books
