Chapter 1 - Cole
I smell the storm before I see it.
My bear stirs beneath my skin, agitated by the change in barometric pressure that humans can't detect until the clouds roll in. Two days until the full moon, and he's already restless, clawing at my insides, demanding to be let out.
"Not now," I mutter, tossing another stack of invoices onto the disaster zone that is my desk.
The papers slide across the polished oak surface and cascade to the floor, joining the sea of receipts, statements, and tax forms I've been drowning in for the past three hours.
I run a hand through my hair, already feeling the thickness that comes before a shift. Everything about me changes when the moon approaches. My senses sharpen, my temper shortens, and my bear grows impatient. The perfect time for the IRS to decide Blackwood Construction needs a comprehensive audit.
Perfect damn timing.
A growl rumbles in my chest as I bend down to retrieve the fallen papers. My knees crack in protest—a reminder that at forty, even with my shifter healing, decades of construction work have taken their toll. Dad always said the business would break me one way or another. I just didn't expect it would be paperwork that might do me in.
My phone buzzes on the desk. Jim Holden, my accountant for the past eight years and the only person who understands the chaotic filing system I inherited from my father.
"Jim, tell me you've got good news," I answer, not bothering with pleasantries.
His sigh tells me everything before he speaks. "Cole, I'm sorry. My mother's had a stroke. I'm in Seattle now, and there's no way I'll be back before Monday's audit."
My bear surges forward, responding to my spike of panic. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing him back. "Your mother comes first. How bad is it?"
"Touch and go. But listen, I've got a solution for you."
I pace toward the window, looking out at the gathering storm clouds over the mountains surrounding my cabin. The trees bend in the strengthening wind, and I feel a kinship with them, bowing under forces beyond their control.
"I'm listening."
"Her name is Ruby Oliver. She's a crisis accountant and specializes in exactly these kinds of situations. She's pulled off miracles for other clients of mine."
"A stranger? Going through all our records?" My voice drops an octave, the bear's distrust bleeding through.
"Cole, she's the best. I wouldn't recommend her otherwise. You've got five years of paperwork to organize before Monday morning, and she's your only shot."
Lightning flashes across the sky, and seconds later, thunder rattles the windows. The storm is almost here. Like the audit. Like this stranger Jim wants me to trust with my family's legacy.
"Fine. When can she get here?"
"She's already on her way from Atlanta. Should reach Cedar Falls tonight."
I hang up after getting her details, then toss the phone onto the couch. My bear paces beneath my skin, disliking this invasion ofour territory. Two days before the full moon is the worst possible timing for a stranger to enter my space.
The first heavy raindrops hit the roof as I head to the kitchen. I grab a beer from the fridge, twist off the cap, and drain half of it in one swallow. It won't do anything to dull my senses, shifter metabolism sees to that, but the ritual is calming.
Dad's voice echoes in my head: "Control the beast, or it controls you." Easy for him to say. He had Mom to anchor him until cancer took her when I was twelve. After that, he became harder, more isolated. Like father, like son.
I look around my cabin. Spacious by most standards but cluttered with the evidence of my failure to keep proper records. The main living area opens to a kitchen with custom cabinets I built myself. A hallway leads to two bedrooms and my home office, where most of the paperwork nightmare awaits. The place smells of pine, leather, and me. The distinctive musk of bear shifter that no amount of cleaning can eliminate.
What will this Ruby Oliver think when she arrives? Will she take one look at the mess and run? Or at me—a six-foot-five contractor who lives alone in the woods? Women usually find me intimidating even when I'm not on edge from the approaching full moon.
Thunder cracks directly overhead, and the lights flicker. Great. Just what I need. A power outage while I'm waiting for a stranger to arrive during an audit crisis.
I finish my beer and grab another, then head to the fireplace to lay kindling. Better to be prepared. As I stack the wood, my phone chimes with a text. Unknown number.
"Mr. Blackwood, this is Ruby Oliver. Jim Holden gave me your contact. I'm about 30 minutes from Cedar Falls. GPS says yourplace is another 15 minutes beyond town. Still OK for me to come directly there? I can start working immediately."
My fingers hover over the keyboard. I should tell her to wait until morning. Having a human woman here, in my territory, with my bear so close to the surface... it's asking for trouble.
