The Bear's Surrogate: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance (13 page)

THE FINAL
CHAPTER

Valemon startled awake as he felt a sharp kick to his ribs. “Wha?  What?” he yelled out as he scrambled to his feet.  He felt chilly and noticed he was naked.

“Hibernation time is over,” Freyja announced. “Get dressed and let’s get going.”

He scrambled for his clothes and looked at Freyja quizzically.  “Did we like...”

“Have sex?  Yep,” Freyja finished for him.  “Was pretty good too, gave me enough juice to do what I need to do once we get to Rachel.”

“We won’t tell her, will we?” Valemon asked.  “Because I don’t know if she’ll take it well.”

“She won’t know unless you say something.”   A strange, pained expression crossed her face as they resumed their trek.  “Umm, I think that cub of yours is about to make its appearance.”

“Wait, really?” Valemon exclaimed as he finished buttoning his shirt.  “We need to get there fast.”

Freyja looked at him and sighed.  “Then why did you put on your clothes, you idiot?  Change into your bear form and let’s go.  Oh, and don’t forget the backpack.  You can carry it in your mouth or something.  I’ll fly on ahead to guide you to the place where they are keeping her.” She drew her falcon cloak close and shimmered into the form of a gyrfalcon.  Freyja took off and perched on a branch of a nearby alder tree and waited for Valemon to get himself together. 

Valemon scowled at the goddess as he stripped his clothing off once again and placed it neatly in the backpack.  He sighed heavily as he underwent the agonizing process of changing forms.  He hoped that one day it might not be so painful. 

Once he was finished changing shape, he picked up the backpack in his mouth and began to lumber towards the tree in which Freyja remained perched. 

She took off and flew in the general direction of the dark tree line in the distance.  Valemon followed as best he could at a steady jog, since his paws were still sore from the wounds on his feet and the backpack dangled uncomfortably from his jaws. 

He made decent time as he galumphed across the green scrub grass of the Norwegian highlands, and they made it to the foot of the dark, foreboding Iron Woods as the sun was beginning to set.  He looked up and saw Freyja perched in one of the tall fir trees.  She flew down and landed Valemon’s white, furry back and shimmered back into her human form.  “You need to stay in your bear form.  Here, let me take that,” she said as she reached down to grab the battered backpack from Valemon’s mouth.  “Ugh, did you have to drool all over it?” she said with disgust. 

Valemon sighed and rolled his eyes in response as he began to amble through the thick forest.  Freyja used her firm thighs to direct him through the dense vegetation so as not to alert the inhabitants of their presence.  The thick coniferous forest was the traditional home of the Ironwood Clan; most of the dire wolves lived here.  There was a small population on Aegir’s island, where he had first seen Rachel, but it was nothing compared to the population in the seemingly endless forest. 

Freyja signaled Valemon to stop as an owl ghosted by.   She nudged her legs, urging him forward again.  The blackness of the forest surrounded them and all he had to go by was his sense of smell and hearing.   The subtle scent of smoke tickled Valemon’s nostrils.  He turned towards it and waited for Freyja to indicate that he was going the wrong way.   He received no such indication and continued to slink through the black of night. 

The scent of smoke became stronger as they crept through the silent forest.  Valemon fought to keep his pace slow and steady so as not to alert the dire wolves.  It was agonizing.  Every paw must be placed carefully so as not to snap a branch, or rustle a bush.   He felt Freyja squeeze his midsection as a signal for him to stop.

“We’re getting really close now,” she projected into his mind.  “The ceremony is going to start any time, and we need to get in there.  I’ll fly in there first to see how many you’ll need to fight.  Once you know the numbers, you will charge in and incapacitate as many as you can.  I’ll change into human form to help you out.  I have a higher score than Thor does in the dire wolf department.  You’ll be safe.”

“Really, now?” Valemon sent skeptically.

“You know that whole romp in the field?  Well, I didn’t just take the energy; I gave you a gift as well.  Trust me, you’re pretty damn indestructible.  Only another god can harm you, so short of Fenrir himself showing up, you’re pretty much good to go.”

Valemon grunted in response.  He felt Freyja’s weight dissipate from his back as she changed back into her gyrfalcon form and flew off.  “There are about five wolves around the cage,” she sent to Valemon.  “There’s a cavern here, and I don’t know how many there are inside.  There are torches all around so mind that big rump of yours unless you want your fur scorched.”

Valemon paced back and forth waiting for Freyja’s signal.  He was restless and wanted to get this over with. He didn’t enjoy fighting, but he would do so to protect those he loved.   He hoped Rachel would forgive him for putting her in this crazy situation.  If he didn’t need an heir so desperately, life might have had other plans for them. 

“It’s time,” Freyja sent.  With that, Valemon charged into the clearing with a mighty roar.  The sleeping dire wolves couldn’t even blink before the massive white bear pounced on them, crushing two underneath his massive weight.  The third he sent flying with a swipe of his enormous paw into the thick trunk of a nearby fir tree.  The remaining two stood up and pounced on the bear’s massive back as he pushed them into the torches.

The stench of burning fur filled the air as the giant canines caught aflame.  Their yelps and howls of agony echoed in the clearing as they ran off into the dark forest in search of water, not realizing that they were just causing the flames to grow with the increased oxygen.

Freyja landed on the cage and changed back to her human form.  She jumped down and cut the lock with one swipe of her Asgardian blade.  The lock clattered to the ground as she opened the door to free the heavily pregnant Rachel from her confines. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hans exclaimed as he came rushing out of the cave, followed by the three handmaidens.  “Valemon?  I didn’t think you would even show up, and who is this?” he said pointing at Freyja. “Another morsel for us to breed?  We can always use more females.” He sneered with an evil gleam in his eye.

With a flick of her wrist, Freyja sent Hans flying back into the cave.  “No one breeds me, dog,” she snapped. 

Rachel doubled over as a contraction wracked her body; it felt as if her body were being ripped in two as it fought to expel the child within.  She moaned as she clutched her distended abdomen with one arm, and grabbed the cage with the other to keep herself from collapsing on the dirt ground.

The two handmaidens stared wide eyed at the goddess and fled into the woods.  They knew better than to tangle with Freyja. Valemon ambled towards Rachel and leaned towards her.  She grasped his white fur in her thin hands and leaned against him as the labor pains wracked her emaciated body.

“We need to go in the cavern,” Freyja explained.  “They have the bed and ritual space all set up in there.  At least she’ll be comfortable and not exposed in there.”

Valemon guided Rachel into the lit cave as she clutched his massive form for support.  She cried out as another agonizing contraction ripped through her. 

Freyja looked around the cavern and saw Hans struggling to stand. “So, Freyja.  I should have known better.  Forgive me for my earlier insolence,” he said with a peaked smile. 

“How about, no,”  Freyja sassed.  “So when’s Fenrir supposed to show up?  I know that’s the deal, I know that dog’s energy anywhere.”

“Soon.” Hans laughed and coughed out a foam of blood.  “When he shows up, the girl will be his and the babe will be nothing but a corpse to slither out of her empty cunt.  Soon she will be fertile again, after Fenrir gives her his gift.  That’s when the party will really start.”

“Change back, Valemon,” Freyja instructed.  “Help Rachel onto the bed.  I can handle this mongrel, as well as Fenrir.”

Valemon changed back into his human form, picked the laboring woman off the floor, and placed her gently on the bed.  It looked suspiciously like an altar of some sort and it weirded him out.

“That’s because it is an altar, you oaf,” Freyja snapped as she read his thoughts.  “We need to turn her now if she’s to survive.  It’s better to do it before Fenrir arrives.  If he shows up before she gets changed, it will be game-over for you.  Not even I can keep him from ripping your head off.”

Valemon nodded. “Now how do I do that?” he quipped.  “It wasn’t really covered in Were bear 101.”

Freyja sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Just slit open a vein and give her your blood.  That’s all there is to it.  You’ll need to give her quite a bit, because it needs to make it to the baby as well.”

“About how much?”  Valemon asked warily.  He didn’t want to be weakened if he needed to defend Rachel and himself if Freyja fell.

Rachel screamed out as another agonizing contraction ripped through her.  The white sheet beneath her began to turn crimson with her blood. “Do it now,” Freyja barked.  “Her uterus is rupturing and if you don’t change her now, she will die.”

Valemon strode over to Freyja and took a dagger from her belt.  He turned back towards Rachel as she writhed on the bed and sighed.  “I’ll give it all if it means she’ll survive,” he whispered.

Hans struggled to his feet.  “No!” he exclaimed as Valemon ran the dagger down his forearm, slicing open the main artery.  He held the wound to Rachel’s mouth and supported her head with his free hand. 

“Drink,” he whispered. 

Rachel gagged as the warm, metallic liquid pulsed into her mouth.  She gulped it down as fast as she could, her eyes wild with fear.  “You need to do this so you can survive.  Don’t fight it,” Valemon said, his eyes full of love and caring for the distraught woman.  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Freyja tripped Hans as he struggled to stop Rachel’s transformation.  She then took her sword and dug it into his ribs on one side of his spinal column.  She ripped it down, severing each rib from the vertebrae that held it, causing Hans to scream out in agony.  She repeated the motion on the other side of his spine.  Freyja then reached into the wounds, cracked the ribs further apart and pulled out the screaming man’s lungs.  The fleshy sacks were inflating and deflating like crazy, as Hans screamed in agony as his life ebbed out of him from the blood eagle.

“Best punishment for a traitor, in my book,” a deep growl said from the cavern entrance.

Freyja’s eyes went wide.  “Fenrir!” she gasped. 

“Yes,” the giant dire wolf rumbled.  Fenrir was at least twelve feet tall at the withers and his coat was as black as the night sky.  His baleful red eyes were the size of dinner plates and his fangs were thicker than Rachel’s arm.  The air shimmered around the giant dire wolf as he changed into human form.

“I never wanted this,” he said.  His red eyes glinted in the torch light.  “Mother was the one who kept encouraging this madness, and now she’s waiting trial up in Asgard.”  He ran his hand through his unkempt jet-black hair.  “Hans there kept encouraging her.  Whispered venom in her ear.  This whole feud would have been done and over with if his family didn’t keep that hatred burning.”

He looked over and saw the pale Valemon beginning to crumple over the laboring  woman.  “That’s enough, friend.  She’s about to change.  Come, sit down over here.” Fenrir’s bearded face was etched with concern.  He ripped the sleeve off his black coat and bound Valemon’s wound with it.  The large silver haired man swooned in the chair from his blood loss.  His vision was blurry and dark around the edges as he tried to look around. 

“Just rest.  You need to recover; Rachel is in capable hands now.  Our war is over, you have my word.  This is all mother’s doing and I just was going along with it because she was crazy.  The real culprit was Hans over there.”

Valemon nodded, unable to fully comprehend anything the black haired man was saying.  He was jarred by a harsh scream that rang through the cavern.  Valemon struggled to get up, knowing Rachel was experiencing her first transformation, but was held down by Fenrir’s strong hand.  “Freyja is with her.  She’s the best person for the job, trust me.  You can’t do much of anything right now so I’ll just keep you here so you don’t go falling over everyone.”

Freyja rushed to Rachel’s side as she bolted off the bed.  The mortal woman fell to the ground on all fours and started screaming incoherently as both the pain of labor and the pain of transformation took hold of her.  

Rachel’s body expanded underneath the blood stained white robes, ripping them at the seams.  Her bones grotesquely shifted under her skin and her head and face grew larger and longer.  Blonde fur sprouted from her translucent skin and her ears moved from the side of her head up to the top.

The transformation ended with a mighty roar as another labor pain tore through her.  Maddened with pain and her first shift, Rachel charged at Freyja who gingerly danced out of the way.  Rachel skidded to a stop at the cavern mouth and turned around.  She slowly stalked towards the blonde goddess, growling low in her throat.  She wasn’t as massive as Valemon, but nearly so.

As Rachel got within arm’s length, Freyja reached up and touched her muzzle. “You’re like him now,” she said.  “Rachel, you are now able to change into a bear.  You will not die when this baby comes.  Change back so we can get him here safely, okay?” Freyja soothed. “Just picture your human form, and force yourself to change back.  It’s going to hurt, but it will cause your baby to change into a human as well.”