This week's throwback is A Bayou Bear Chronicle series. Make sure you are all caught up with the bears before Beholden releases.
It’s been a
while since I talked to Hawke. I mean, he is the Alpha of the largest black
bear clan, not to mention, the Alpha of all bear clans.
He’s kind of
busy.
And he’s got
to deal with Rev on top of all of that.
Rev is a
pain in the bear butt.
So when he
sent me a text asking me to meet him at a coffee shop of all places, I thought
it was more than just a little strange—it was weird—more than weird.
*Hawke walks
in to a Lake Charles coffee and tea house. Hawke isn’t really a caffeinated
drink in a cardboard sleeve kind of guy, but I went with it. After all, how
many of us get to sit with a shifter and just…chat?*
Hawke
doesn’t order anything because I’ve already gotten him an espresso. He seems
like an espresso guy, right?
Hawke:
Thanks, Lila. It’s been a while. You remembered.
I shift my
eyes around the room. This guy thinks I’ve forgotten him. Okay, I admit it, I
forget some things about my characters sometimes. It happens.
But really,
forget Hawke? Please.
I’d have a
better time forgetting my own ass.
Me: Yep. So,
Alpha, what’s up?
He hates
when I call him Alpha. His scowl grows more defined.
Hawke:
Consider my buttons pushed. So, I heard it’s going to be over soon.
Me: Over?
Hawke: Yeah,
our books. Word on the street is that you’re done with the last one. Just
putting some finishing touches on it.
Me: *Trying
like hell not to crack up* The street? What is this street?
Hawke: You
know that I mean. It’s over though, right?
Me: The book
series is over—for now.
Hawke: For
now?
Me: Well,
there’s a chance your clan will show up in some future shifter books. And let’s
be real. Just because the books end doesn’t mean your lives end. Reality shows
end but people’s lives don’t.
Hawke: *Now
visibly disturbed* So, it was just some books to you? It’s over but our lives
aren’t over?
Me: If
you’re insinuating that this is easy for me, Hawke, you are grossly mistaken.
I’ve ended series before. It’s never easy. But this one is particularly hard.
This one stings like a deep cut that years later still aches. If you think this
doesn’t make me bleed…
Hawke: No,
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I mean, you made us. It must be like…
Me: Like
watching your kid move out of the house. Like watching them drive away on their
own for the first time. Like closing the door on the Kindergarten classroom for
the first time. It’s necessary. It has to be this way. But it sucks. Don’t
think you can stop answering my calls though. I will come after you. I don’t
care who is at the clan’s gates, I will hunt you down, Turnclaw.
He raises
his eyes in a challenge.
Me: Don’t
test me.
Hawke: Would
never dream of it. Those cats are up to no good again, by the way. I can smell
the trouble.
Me: I know.
They are bobcats. That’s what they do—stir up mischief.
Hawke: I
hate them. They smell bad.
Me: You know
what’s funny? They said the same thing about you.
Hawke: We
are gonna miss having you around, sniffing in our business all the time.
Me: I’m
gonna miss y’all too. Except Rev—he’s a pain in my ass. Always has been.
Hawke: But he
gets the job done, you know?
Me: I do.
Can’t really fire the scribe.
Hawke: That
includes you. We will never really be rid of you, will we?
Me: Nope.
Hawke: *He
gets up, drinks down the espresso in one gulp and then turns around. He’s
walking away. But before he does, I hear him mutter.* I’m counting on it,
Felix. I’m counting on it.
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