Claimed by the Bear

Maddie

“I’m really, really sorry.”

I stare at my phone for a long moment, rereading Anna’s message for what had to be the tenth time.

The words haven’t changed. Unfortunately.

Neither has the fact that my best friend has just cancelled on the wilderness retreat we booked and paid for six months ago.

I slowly lower my phone onto my desk and look around the office. Grey walls, grey carpet, grey filing cabinets. Even the bloody sky outside the window is grey.

There’s something deeply depressing about spending eight hours a day in a building where the most exciting event of the week was someone bringing in donuts on a Friday morning.

“Everything okay?”

I look up to find Karen from accounts standing beside my desk with a stack of papers in her hands.

Karen is fifty-two, owns seven cats and has an unhealthy obsession with murder documentaries. I like her, mostly because she’s one of the few people in the office who doesn’t pretend this place is anything other than soul-destroying.

“My best friend just cancelled our holiday.”

Karen’s eyebrows rise. “Oh.”

“Apparently, her sister has decided she’s getting married.”

“When?”

“This weekend.”

She blinks.

“Right?”

Karen slowly lowers herself into the chair opposite my desk. “That seems a little sudden.”

“That’s what I said,” I pick up my phone again, reading through Anna’s increasingly apologetic messages. “Her sister and her boyfriend got engaged last month. Now apparently, they’ve decided they don’t want a long engagement and have managed to organise the entire wedding in three weeks.”

“Three weeks?”

“Exactly.”

Karen shakes her head slowly. “I’d need three weeks just to decide what to wear.”

I snort.

Anna’s messages continue to appear.

ANNA: I’m so sorry, Mads.

ANNA: I know how much you were looking forward to it.

ANNA: I can pay you back for my half if you want.

ANNA: Please don’t hate me.

I sigh.

I don’t hate her, I’m annoyed. Very annoyed, but I don’t hate her.

Anna and I have been best friends since university, and I’ve known her sister almost as long. Its not as though Anna has cancelled because she’s received a better offer.

Still, that doesn’t change the fact that our ten-day wilderness retreat starts tomorrow.

Ten days.

Ten whole days away from this office.

Ten days away from answering phones, organising meetings and filing paperwork for people who can’t be bothered doing it themselves.

I’ve been counting down the days.

And now I’m supposed to go alone.

“I wouldn’t cancel.” Karen says.

I look at her. “I didn’t ask.”

“You were thinking it.”

I frown. “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got you thinking face on.”

“My what?”

“That,” she points at me. “The little crease between your eyebrows.”

I immediately smooth my forehead.

“Go alone.”

I laugh. “To a wilderness retreat?”

“Yes.”

“Karen, I don’t know anyone.”

“You’ll meet people.”

“I’ll be the weird woman wandering around the woods by herself while everyone else is there with their partners.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Anna showed me the booking list.”

Karen waits. I sigh.

“There were supposed to be eight people. Two couples, Anna, me and another couple.”

“And?”

“And, one of the couples cancelled last week.”

Karen shrugs. “So they’ll be five of you.”

“Exactly. Two couples and me.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“Okay, that’s slightly awkward.”

“Thank you.”

“But I still think you should go.”

I look down at my phone again.

The retreat hadn’t been cheap.

Not ridiculously expensive, but expensive enough that I spent the last year putting money aside for it. Anna and I had booked it after one-to-many Friday nights sitting in my flat drinking wine and complaining about our lives.

At the time, it had seemed like a brilliant idea.

We’d get away from everything. Spend ten days hiking, camping and reconnecting with nature.

That last part had been Anna’s suggestion.

Personally, I suspected nature and I have a perfectly healthy relationship already.

I stay inside, nature stays outside. Everyone is happy.

But I agreed because I desperately needed something different.

My life has become predictable.

Wake up.

Go to work.

Spend eight hours answering emails and organising someone else’s life.

Come home.

Eat.

Watch television.

Sleep.

Then repeat.

Every single day.

Even my weekends aren’t particularly exciting.

I meet Anna for drinks, sometimes I visit my parents.

Occasionally, if I’m feeling particularly adventurous, I go shopping.

Twenty-six years old, and I’ve somehow developed the lifestyle of a retired woman.

The thought of spending ten days doing something I’ve never done before had terrified me. Which was exactly why I booked it.

“I’ve never even been camping.” I mutter.

Karen stares at me.

“Never?”

“No.”

“Not even as a child?”

“My parents took me to Disneyland.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“That’s what I told them.”

She laughs.

I look at my phone again, maybe I can still cancel.

I’d lose money, but at least I wouldn’t have to spend ten days humiliating myself in front of strangers.

Then again…

I’d lose the money.

And more importantly, I’d lose the only thing I’ve genuinely been looking forward to in months.

I grab my phone.

ME: I don’t hate you.

The reply comes almost immediately.

ANNA: You should.

ME: I’m annoyed.

ANNA: Fair.

ME: I’m still going.

There’s a pause. Then.

ANNA: Wait. What?

ME: I’m going alone.

Three dots appear, disappear, appear again.

ANNA: Maddie.

ME: What?

ANNA: Are you sure?

I stare at the message.

No. Absolutely not. But I type anyway.

ME: Yep.

Another lie.

ANNA: You don’t even like bugs.

ME: I’ll survive.

ANNA: You cried when that spider was in your bathroom.

ME: It was massive

ANNA: It was the size of your thumbnail.

ME: That’s still massive.

Karen leans across my desk, trying to read my messages.

I move the phone away.

“Nosy.”

“You’re going?”

I look at her, then I smile.

“Apparently.”

She grins. “Good for you.”

I’m not entirely sure I’d describe voluntarily walking into the wilderness with four stranger as good for me. But I have twenty-four hours to convince myself it is.

By six o’clock the following morning, I’m beginning to question every decision I’ve ever made.

My suitcase sits beside the front door, my hiking boots are on my feet, and I’m staring at myself in the mirror, wondering if I look like someone capable of surviving in the wilderness.

The answer is no.

I look like Maddie Collins, personal assistant to a man who regularly forgets his own passwords and once asked me to remind him about a meeting while I’m sitting in the meeting with him.

I have my brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, no makeup except mascara, a pair of black leggings, a green long-sleeved top, and hiking boots I bought three weeks ago and worn exactly twice around my living room.

I look down at them, they’re already covered in dust, probably from the box. This is going well. My phone buzzes.

ANNA: Have you left yet?

ME: No.

ANNA: Good.

I narrow my eyes.

ME: Why?

ANNA: Because I forgot to tell you something.

I wait.

ANNA: Apparently there’s bears..

I stare at the screen, then immediately call her. She answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Bears?”

She laughs.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Bears, Anna?”

“It’s a wilderness retreat Maddie.”

“You didn’t mention bears.”

“I assumed you knew bears lived in forests.”

“Not forests I’m planning on walking through!”

“You’re not going to be walking around alone.”

“That isn’t the point.”

Anna’s still laughing, I grab my suitcase and drag it towards the door.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I might.”

“You’ll have fun.”

“I’m going to get eaten by a bear.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“I’ll haunt you.”

“You’ll get bored after a week.”

I smile despite myself.

“I’ll call you when I get there.”

“You better. And take pictures.”

“Of what?”

“Everything.”

I open the front door.

“If I survive.”

“You will.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re going to a wedding. There are tables and chairs at weddings.”

“And alcohol.”

“Exactly.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I end the call and step outside, the sun is barely beginning to rise.

For a moment, standing outside my small apartment building with my suitcase and backpack, I wonder if I should turn around. Go back upstairs, climb into bed and forget the entire thing.

Then I remember Karen’s words. Go alone. So I do.

The drive takes nearly four hours, I expected the location to feel remote, I just underestimated exactly how remote.

The roads gradually become narrower, the towns disappear buildings become fewer and farther between. Eventually, I’m surrounded almost entirely by trees.

Huge mountains rise in the distance, their peaks disappearing into low clouds. I slow my car as the GPS instructs me to turn onto a dirt road.

“This can’t be right.” I mutter.

The road winds through the forest, trees stretch on either side of me. Tall, thick and seemingly endless. There’s no houses, no shops, no signs of civilisation whatsoever.

Just forest.

I check the GPS. Still another eight miles.

“Great.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel. I’ve made a terrible mistake. I know it.

I’ll probably die here, maybe not from a bear, possibly from hypothermia, or starvation, or falling down a mountain.

I have absolutely no survival skills. The closest I’ve ever came to wilderness training is watching Bear Grylls drink his own urine on television.

And I’m not doing that, I dint care what happens.

Eventually the trees begin to thin, the road curves around a hill and suddenly the view opens. A huge lake stretches out below me.

Mountains surround it on every side. The water reflects the pale morning sky, perfectly still except for the occasional ripple. And sitting at the edge if it is the largest cabin I’ve ever seen.

Cabin probably isn’t even the correct word, the place looks more like a luxury lodge.

It’s two stories, built entirely from dark wood, with huge windows facing the lake. A wide porch wraps around the front, and smoke drifts lazily from a chimney.

Behind it is nothing but mountains and forest. My anxiety disappears for exactly three seconds.

Then I see the sign.

WILDER WILDERNESS RETREATS.

An arrow points towards the lodge.

“Oh god.”

I follow the road down, there’s several cars already parked outside. I recognise none of them. Of course I don’t.

I park beside a blue SUV and turn off the engine.

For a moment I simply just sit, my heart hammers against my ribs. This is ridiculous, I’m not normally shy, I can talk to anyone, that’s practically part of my job.

But arriving one somewhere I’ve never been before is different, especially when I know everyone else has someone. I reach for my phone. There’s one new message from Anna.

ANNA: You’ve got this, wilderness woman.

I snort.

ME: Shut up.

Then I climb out of the cat, he air is colder than I expected, fresh too, really fresh. I take a deep breath. It smells like one tress, water and something else I can’t quite identify.

Nothing like the city, nothing like traffic and exhaust fumes. For the first time since Anna had cancelled, I feel a flicker of excitement. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

I open the trunk and stare at my luggage, one suitcase, one backpack, one sleeping bag. And one ridiculous pink duffel bag Anna had insisted we buy because apparently matching luggage was important.

I grab the suitcase handle, it immediately gets stuck on a rock.

“Of course.”

I yank it, nothing. I pull harder, the suitcase tips sideways.

“Fantastic.”

“Need some help?”

I freeze, the voice came from behind me. Deep, warm, amused and for reasons I can’t possibly explain, it sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. I slowly turn around and forget every single word in the English language.

He’s standing a few feet away from me. Tall. That’s the first thing I notice, ridiculously tall. The second is that he looks nothing like the man I imagined when booking a wilderness retreat. I expected someone older. Maybe a long beard, possibly wearing one of those ridiculous hats with fishing hooks attached to it.

Instead the man standing in front of me looks like he’s waked straight off the cover of one of those romance books Anna keeps trying to make me read.

Dark hair, broad shoulders, a fitted black T-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he has a very impressive body underneath it. Jeans, hiking boots and a smile. God that smile. It’s confident, slightly crooked and entirely too attractive. I blink.

“Yes.”

His smile widens and I immediately realise what I said, heat rushes to my cheeks.

“Yes, I need help,” I clarify. “Not… yes.”

He looks amused.

“Not yes?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s a lie, I know exactly what I’m saying, my brain has simply stopped functioning.

His eyes move briefly towards my suitcase.

“First wilderness lesson.”

“Oh good.”

“Don’t bring luggage with wheels.”

I look at my suitcase, then back at him.

“It seemed practical.”

“In a hotel.”

“I didn’t know we’d be hiking from the parking lot.”

He laughs, actually laughs. The sound does strange things to my stomach. I watch as he walks towards my car. Up close, he’s even worse. Or better, definitely better.

He has light stubble across his jaw and eyes that are somewhere between green and brown. Hazel. I decide. His eyes are hazel. Why am I studying his eyes?

“I’m Mason.” He says.

Of course he is. I have no idea what that means, but the name suits him.

“Maddie.”

His hand extends towards me. I stare at it for half a second before placing mine in his. The moment our skin touches, something strange happens. Not dramatic, there are no sparks, no lightening, nothing visible, just warmth. A sudden rush of warmth that travels from my hand through the rest of my body.

Mason goes completely still, his eyes snap to mine and for one long second neither of us speaks. Then he slowly releases my hand.

“Welcome to Wilder Wilderness Retreats, Maddie.”

His voice sounds slightly different, rougher. I swallow.

“Thank you.”

He picks up my suitcase as though is weighs nothing, then my duffle bag, he glances towards my backpack.

“I can get that.”

He looks at me. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You look like you’re struggling with the suitcase.”

“That’s because the suitcase betrayed me.”

His mouth twitches. “Right.”

I follow him towards the lodge.

“Are you one of the guides?”

“Something like that.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out.”

I narrow my eyes, that sounds unnecessarily mysterious. He glances back at me, catching my expression.

“Relax Maddie.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“You’re frowning.”

“That’s my face.”

He laughs again, I hate how much I like making him laugh. We reach the porch and he places my luggage beside the front door. Before I can thank him, the door opens. A woman steps out. She’s around my age, with blonde hair and a bright smile.

“Oh thank god.” She says.

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“You’re Maddie right?”

“Yes.”

She looks over my shoulder.

“Please tell me you’re here for the retreat.”

“I am.”

She visibly relaxes.

“Perfect. I’m Chloe.”

She holds out her hand, I shake it.

“Nice to meet you.”

“I’m just relieved you’re here.”

I look at Mason, then back at her.

“Why?”

“Because I’m beginning to think we’re all going to be murdered.”

Mason sighs. “Chloe.”

“What?”

“Don’t scare the guests.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You just said you thought you were going to be murdered.”

She waves a hand dismissively.

“I was exaggerating.”

I immediately like her.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Mason asks.

“Inside, pretending he isn’t listening to us.”

“Smart man.”

“Don’t encourage him.”

Mason grins. Then looks at me.

“We’ve got everyone else inside.”

I follow Chloe through the front door, the interior is just as beautiful as the outside. A huge open space with wooden beams across the ceiling. A stone fireplace large sofas, a massive kitchen, windows everywhere. The lake visible through almost every one. I stop.

“This is incredible.”

“Right?” Chloe says.

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Me neither.”

“Most people assume wilderness means sleeping in the dirt.”

I turn, Mason is standing behind me. I hadn’t even realised he followed us inside. I try to ignore the way my body immediately reacts to his proximity.

“We are sleeping in the dirt though, aren’t we?”

He smiles. “Eventually.”

I stare at him.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out.”

I was beginning to hate that answer.

There’s three other people sitting around the large dining table. A dark-haired man stands first.

“I’m Ben,” he says walking towards us. “Chloe’s unfortunate boyfriend.”

“Fiancé.” Chloe corrects.

He sighs. “Apparently.”

She slaps his arm, I smile. Ben introduces me to the other couple, Rachel and Tom. They’re friendly enough, and within a few minutes, my earlier anxiety begins to disappear. Maybe being the only single person won’t be so awkward after all. Everyone seems nice. Mason moves around the room, making coffee and answering questions. I try not to watch him, I fail. Often. It’s not my fault. The man is difficult not to look at.

Every time I glance in his direction, he seems to already be looking at me. And every single time, he smiles.

By the time everyone has arrived and settled in, I’m beginning to suspect Mason Wilder is deliberately trying to make me nervous.

“Okay.” Mason says eventually, standing at the end of the table. Everyone quietens.

“First things first. Welcome.”

There’s something about the way he speaks that immediately holds everyone’s attention. He’s relaxed, confident, comfortable. Like standing in front of strangers and leading them into the wilderness is something he’s done a thousand times.

“Over the next ten days, we’re going to be hiking, camping, kayaking, climbing and spending as much time outdoors as possible.”

Tom raises his hand, Mason stares at him.

“Seriously?”

Tom slowly lowers it.

“Sorry.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. Mason continues.

“We’ll be staying here tonight. Tomorrow morning, we head out.”

My stomach flips. I can handle one night in this beautiful lodge. Tomorrow apparently, I’ll be expected to walk into the woods and survive.

“Every activity can be adjusted depending on experience levels,” mason continues. “So don’t worry if you’ve never done something before.”

His eyes land on me, I narrow mine.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You looked at me.”

“I look at everyone.”

“No, you looked at me.”

Chloe laughs, Ben covers his mouth trying not to. Mason leans against the table.

“Have you done much hiking Maddie?”

I cross my arms. “Yes.”

His eyebrow lifts. “How much?”

I think about it.

“I walked around the lake near my apartment once.”

There’s silence, then Tom laughs, everyone follows even me. Mason smiles.

“We’ll take good care of you.”

Something about the way he said it makes my stomach flutter. I should feel embarrassed. Instead, I find myself smiling back at him. And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel genuinely excited about something. I have no idea what the next ten days will bring.

I don’t know how to pitch a tent, I don’t know how to start a fire, I definitely don’t know how to survive an encounter with a bear.

But standing in this beautiful lodge, surrounded by strangers who already feel surprisingly easy to talk to, I realise something. Maybe Anna cancelling hasn’t ruined my holiday, maybe coming here alone is exactly what I need. I glance across the room, Mason is watching me. Again. This time he doesn’t look away when I catch him. Neither do I.

And that strange warmth returns, deep in my chest, unfamiliar, exciting, dangerous.

I’ve known Mason Wilder for less than an hour and already, I have a feeling these ten days are going to change everything.